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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26815153">We Might Be Dead By Tomorrow // An Ishimondo Fanfiction</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeletonappreciationday/pseuds/skeletonappreciationday'>skeletonappreciationday</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abusive Parents, Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Angst, Background Owada Daiya, Bisexual Owada Mondo, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Disordered Eating, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, F slur, Family Issues, Gay Ishimaru Kiyotaka, Homophobia, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalised Homophobia, M/M, None of them went to Hope's Peak, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Owada Daiya Lives, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Q slur, Sad writer, Self-Harm, Sharing a Bed, Slurs, Strangers to Lovers, Taka is married, Taka works at a dead end job, Trauma, Vomiting, all ships that aren't ishimondo are just background, ishimondo - Freeform, sorry taka but ur getting all of MY trauma as well now, taka has body image issues, that he really hates, they're all adults, this is just a way for me to project onto taka, trigger warning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:28:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,657</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26815153</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeletonappreciationday/pseuds/skeletonappreciationday</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kiyotaka Ishimaru: married, well-off, and yet adrift. His wife is unloving; his job is unrelenting; his past is haunting. With the oceanic vastness of his life, his wife, his corporate job, he's drowning and he can't find a buoy.<br/>He can't swim.<br/>And yet sometimes, we meet perfect strangers. Perfect strangers who can help keep us afloat.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hagakure Yasuhiro &amp; Kuwata Leon, Ishimaru Kiyotaka &amp; Oowada Mondo, Ishimaru Kiyotaka/Oowada Mondo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>485</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Bruises</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>PLEASE CHECK THE TAGS FOR TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNINGS<br/>EXTREME TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNINGS (E.G. SELF-HARM) WILL BE POSTED IN THE NOTES BEFORE EACH CHAPTER, BUT, FOR FUTURE REFERENCE, CHECK TAGS FOR TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNINGS.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bruises on Kiyotaka Ishimaru's waist aren't going to fade anytime soon. Stepping out of the shower, analysing his body in the mirror, he can see those dark purple fingerprint smudges perfectly. They still hurt to touch. His wife had left them there almost territorially the last time he had left for work. The past weekend had been a mess of struggling to cope and forcing himself to spend the passing days with his wife. </p><p>The last time they had sex was six days ago; Kiyotaka knows because he's been counting how long he can go without having to force himself to do anything. He doesn't love his wife and he knows he never will, no matter how much he tries; truth be told, he didn't choose to marry his wife. His father had practically forced her onto him as soon as he graduated from college and Taka knew the consequences if he didn't consent to his father's terms of marrying her. </p><p>But now there are bruises on his waist and he doesn't know how long they would stain his skin for. No shirtless activities until they go away. Not that Kiyotaka likes being shirtless anyway. He had only just gotten used to seeing his own repulsiveness in the mirror after years and years of avoiding it, and it's still horrifying to have to witness. </p><p>"Taka, you're going to be late for work!" he hears his wife in the other room shout. </p><p>"I know," he replies but he doesn't make an effort to raise his voice so that she can hear him. Truthfully, Kiyotaka hates when his wife calls him 'Taka'. It was the nickname his friends had given him in high school, the nickname his first and only boyfriend ever had used, the nickname his coworker and lone friend uses for him. He feels it loses its worth whenever his wife uses it. </p><p>He gets changed - the usual white shirt, black dress pants, black shoes attire - and washes his face, brushes his teeth, styles his hair. He grabs his coat from the coat rack, picks up his briefcase from beneath the bed and unlocks the door to leave. </p><p>"What?" his wife chuckles from behind him. "Not going to give your loving wife a kiss goodbye?" </p><p>He forces a smile as he turns to face her, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. He feels her hand on his wrist, the grip tightening into a sharp pain that shoots through his arm. He knows he can't tell her that she is hurting him, because the last time he dared to, she only hurt him more. "A proper kiss, darling," she says, her voice honeyed and letting that sharp tone of hate show through. </p><p>He kisses her for a second or two and then pulls away. "Good. Have fun at work, darling." He bears a fake grin, letting himself thank her as her hand fell away from his wrist, the pain dulling but not dying. </p><p>"Goodbye," he says with a broken voice that could only feign something incomparable to strength. She waves at him from the doorway as he gets into his car.</p><p>Starting the engine, he sees the image of her disappear from his peripheral vision, the door shutting. And all of a sudden, tears are spilling out from his eyes, flooding down his cheeks. He slams the palms of his hands onto his steering wheel, letting out something of a muffled scream, garbled by his ugly crying. "Why? Why? Why?" he chants through tears as he continues rhythmically slamming his hands until they hurt. Until the sensation makes his hands red and burning with dull pain. He leans his head at the top of the steering well, sobbing down into his lap, his arms falling to his sides. </p><p>He wipes at his tears with the side of his hand, his wrist still aching. He uses that hand because he knows he deserves the pain.</p><p>He uses that hand because he hopes that maybe if he causes himself enough pain, everything will stop hurting altogether. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Sickness for Nothing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW FOR EMETOPHOBIA AND SKIPPING MEALS</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kiyotaka stands by the coffee pot, sipping the bitter, cold liquid from his mug as his coworker, Chihiro Fujisaki, rambles on about something he watched last night.</p><p>When Chihiro was first hired as the IT Manager, Taka expected to see very little of the younger, more feminine man, but they ended up becoming quite close friends after a while. Now, Taka knows almost everything about Chihiro and Chihiro has a falsely constructed image of Taka in his mind. There's little that Kiyotaka wants to be known about himself, so now Chihiro knows him as the happily married man with the successful job and, oddly, that settles well with Taka. </p><p>"And then I realised that if he's not a robot, then how did he survive those six bullets halfway through the movie?" Chihiro asks, adding an ungodly amount of creamer into his coffee. </p><p>"Bulletproof vest?" </p><p>"Why in God's name would he be wearing a bulletproof vest and <em>if</em> he was, shouldn't that detail be made clear?" He sighs. "It was just a shitty plot twist in my opinion. Anyway, what'd you and your lady get up to last night?" He nudges him suggestively, raising his eyebrows. </p><p>Taka thinks of last night: of the screaming, of the plate thrown at the wall beside him, of the threats, of being called a faggot for the hundredth time this month. "We just...talked." </p><p>"Well, that's boring. No funny stories about you trying to kiss her but both of your heads turning in the same direction?" </p><p>Taka thinks of the last time he kissed her meaningfully: he only kissed her to prove to his father that he didn't need to go to therapy for his 'plague of homosexuality' (as his father had called it), to prove that he was already cured. To prove to his father that it wasn't him who was at fault, that his boyfriend at the time had forced him into the relationship. He wants to tell Chihiro about all of it, but instead, he just shakes his head and takes another sip of his coffee. </p><p>"I still can't believe you're straight." </p><p>"What's that supposed to mean?" Taka asks, trying to sound playful but failing. </p><p>"I don't know; you just give off more of an 'I like guys' vibe, y'know? Which is totally fine by the way! No hate here! Safe space." </p><p>"What about you?" Taka takes another sip of his coffee. "Are you straight?" His hand shakes as he forces himself to ask the question; if he says no, then that must be kept a secret from his wife, from his family, from everybody. If he says yes, Chihiro might think he was flirting and pour his hot, creamer-filled coffee all over the office queer. </p><p>"Nope," Chihiro answers nonchalantly, emptying a sugar packet into his coffee. "I don't really think I give off a straight vibe though."</p><p>"So, what do you like?" Taka feels himself roll back onto his heels subconsciously, just asking the question made him feel ill, made him feel wrong, made him feel dirty. </p><p>"Nobody. I'm asexual and aromantic."</p><p>"Wh-" Taka has never heard either of those labels before; all he knows is gay, straight, and in between. His fingers tap against his coffee cup, wanting to know more but feeling afraid to do so. "Cool," he replies, finishing his coffee off with a final gulp, slamming it onto the table afterwards. </p><p>"Taka, y'know that if you do like guys, you can tell me, right?"</p><p>But Chihiro can hardly finish his question before Taka interjects abruptly, "I don't; I'm not a queer." The words don't process in his brain until after they've been said and Chihiro takes a step back, a shocked and offended look on his face. "I'm sorry-" But he can feel tears forming in his eyes and no man wants to be caught crying, as his father would say, practically drilling it into him at a young age, so he rushes to the bathroom, hoping that it will be empty. </p><p>He starts crying as soon as he pushes the door open into a nervous swing. He stares at himself in the mirror, his wrist <em>still</em> hurting; he knows it's going to bruise and he knows he'll have to come up with a poor attempt at an excuse of how he would ever develop a bruise in such a specific place. <em>He thinks you're a faggot,</em> he hears his father's voice say inside of his skull. <em>Are you a fucking queer, Kiyotaka? Are you</em><em>? </em>He slams a fist down on the porcelain and says a firm, "no." </p><p>Looking at himself, thinking about it all, he feels a disgusting, rotting feeling in his stomach, climbing its way up to his oesophagus. He throws himself into one of the stalls, sliding down onto his knees in front of the toilet bowl. He slams the seat up, his hands gripping the sides of the porcelain, throwing up his coffee and the glass of water he'd used to substitute breakfast this morning. He makes a disgusting gagging sound, a retching, heaving sound as his stomach contents empty out. Tears pour from his eyes as he vomits. </p><p>"Jesus Christ, Ishimaru," his boss says from behind him. "You ought to go home." </p><p>"No," Taka says as he stops, flushing the toilet. "Home is so much worse than here," he wants to say, only it comes out in the form of, "I'll be okay." </p><p>"Are you sure, Ishimaru? I mean, you're our best employee and I'm glad to see your dedication, but-"</p><p>"I think I just drank my coffee too quickly, that's all." He stays sat on the floor like a schoolchild in need of consolation, in need of somebody to bandage up his knees after he tripped and fell. "I'll be fine, Mr Takahashi, I promise." </p><p>"At least take an early lunch to go and refill your stomach. You'll need the energy." </p><p>He nods, thanking him as his boss leaves. His hands are shaking and he feels so cold, even though today is one of the warmer September days so far. He takes some paper towel, wiping his mouth with it before tossing that in the toilet bowl and flushing it. He manages to climb to his feet and stumbles to the sink, where he's forced to face his reflection once again. </p><p>Those heavy eye bags, those gaunt features, that frame too skinny for a man, those weepy eyes. </p><p>He washes his hands and wipes at his tear-stained cheeks before heading back to work. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. All He Wants</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I'm not mad that you used...that word," Chihiro says. Kiyotaka's been trying to apologise for a good few moments now and every time Chihiro replies with the similar sentiment. </p><p>"I should have thought before I spoke. It was disrespectful of me."</p><p>"Taka, please, I've already accepted your apology." </p><p>"I'm simply saying that you shouldn't feel obligated to. I've hurt you and I understand; if you would like me to not contact you again, then-"</p><p>"Taka, you're being a little overdramatic." Chihiro smiles, putting his things away into his backpack that he insists on bringing to work. "We should go out tonight, you and I, and get some drinks." </p><p>"At a bar?" </p><p>"No, from the water fountain. Yes, Taka, from a bar; it'll be fun." He pauses before adding, "you can pay for the first few rounds if it makes you feel any better." </p><p>After a moment's consideration, settling on the basis that it will prolong him having to go home, to face his wife, Taka agrees, forcing a smile. He hopes it will take his mind off of everything; hell, maybe he'll pass out and die from the alcohol poisoning. Either sounds perfectly fine to him. "I'll have to call my wife-"</p><p>"It's one night, what harm will it do? Come on, Taka, liven up a little!" Chihiro laughs and Kiyotaka forces himself to laugh alongside him. Obeying Chihiro, he keeps his phone in his pocket and readies himself to head out with him. </p><p>The clock on the wall reads eight o'clock and the sky outside is dark. <em>What harm can it do?</em>  Taka asks himself, his fingers drumming a  rhythm he didn't recognise on the outer side of his thighs.</p><p>The two of them walk through the crowded city streets, illuminated only by the neon lights of restaurants, the windows of offices still open after hours, and the screaming street lamps. Chihiro has gone back to ranting about the plot twist in a film he watched a while ago, decoding the film as 'unrealistic' for its portrayal of preprogrammed robots. Taka gently turns his wrist in circles, hoping it doesn't hurt still - the pain is mostly gone until he moves it and suddenly he's reminded of his wife at home, and that thought is worse than anything she could do to him. </p><p>"So, what bar d'ya wanna go to, Taka?" Chihiro asks, giddy as ever as they walk through the city.  </p><p>"Oh God, I'm not sure. I haven't been out drinking since my college days." </p><p>"Your college days, eh? What were they like?" </p><p>Kiyotaka lets a smile creep upon his face as he reminisces. "I met my first-" he catches himself before he says that fool's word: boyfriend. "I met my first girlfriend in a college bar. She was...nice. My father hated me for loving her." </p><p>"'Hated you for loving her'? That's an odd way of saying that your dad didn't like her," Chihiro says, slowing to a stop as he trails off in front of a dimly lit bar, a red neon sign protesting the name "Leon's". "How about here? It looks cool."</p><p>Kiyotaka nods, though really he's just frightened to oppose. Chihiro opens the door for him and he obediently follows like a dog with its master or a servant who knows no better than to follow his orders. </p><p>The bar inside isn't too crowded; a few patrons sat gathered around darkly lit tables and there's three seated at the bar. A teenage girl and a much-older looking gentlemen sit talking whilst a man with a pale complexion and messy hairstyle sits alone, drinking a rum and Coke. The bar is oddly red, almost vampiric in style but too edgy and modern for that; the sole bartender, polishing glasses, behind the bar is also a red-head and seems to be holding up the heavier end of a conversation with that lonely man. Chihiro rushes ahead, practically jumping up onto a stool that seems too high for him. Taka strolls over and sits beside, a glum look on his face. </p><p>The bartender strides over, breaking his conversation with the solitary gentleman. He flashes a wide grin, putting the glass down and tossing the rag over his shoulder. "What can I get you two?" </p><p>"A Cosmopolitan please," Chihiro says with a smile. </p><p>"An Old Fashioned, thank you," Taka says before turning to Chihiro and saying, "A Cosmopolitan? Since when have you been so...?" He waves his arm in a varied sort of gesture. </p><p>"You never asked what kinda guy I am outside of work!"</p><p>"You're a Cosmopolitan-drinker unprofessionally?" </p><p>"Shut up, Mr Old Fashioned," Chihiro jokes, swatting Taka away playfully.</p><p>There's something ominous about the stranger at the end of the bar and Taka is trying his best to ignore him, but he could feel that penetrative gaze fixated on him, even with his body angled away so that his back was to the man. After a short while, the bartender places their drinks in front of them; Chihiro sips at his whilst Taka finishes his in two gulps. "Geez, Taka." But he pays his counterpart no heed and waves the bartender over, ordering a second to be made. </p><p>And a second turns into a third, which turns into a fourth, which turns into a fifth. And soon enough, Taka's words are slurred and he has half a glass left of his sixth drink. Chihiro stands from his seat, telling Taka that he's rushing to the bathroom quickly, but he shows no signs of having heard this at all. In his lonesome, at the bar, chewing on the straw of his drink, his posture faltered to the point where he has to hoist his head up with a hand against his face and an elbow on the bar, the stranger from the end of the bar shifts, standing and walking over in Kiyotaka's direction. Normally, this would startle him, but under the circumstances, all he can think about is buying another drink. </p><p>"Hurry up and finish yer drink," the stranger said. </p><p>"Why?" Taka replies, drowsy, his eyes barely able to stay open. </p><p>"So I can buy ya another." Taka can't help but chuckle as he takes a sip from his drinks. "Though, ya really don't look like ya ought to be drinkin' anymore tonight." </p><p>"But I really <em>feel</em> like I should be drinking more tonight and isn't that what matters?" Taka replies, half-joking. The stranger laughs, contagiously and meaningfully so. </p><p>"You have a girlfriend?" </p><p>"Not even going to ask my name first? You must be desperate." He has a smile plastered on his dull, sunken face as he finishes his drink off and calls for another. </p><p>"Fine, I'll comply. What's yer name?" </p><p>"Kiyotaka Ishimaru." </p><p>"Damn, ya just gave it away like that, huh?  I could be a murderer, y'know, and here you are, giving me all of your information-"</p><p>"I don't have a girlfriend." </p><p>"A boyfriend?" </p><p>Taka scowls at the stranger. "What's your name?"</p><p>"Mondo." The stranger outstretches a hand. For a man who's been drinking all night, he certainly seems sober. "Mondo Oowada." </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Stranger at the Bar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"That's a dumb name," Kiyotaka Ishimaru says bluntly, too intoxicated to think anything more of his words. </p><p>"Oh, alright then, whatever you say," but Mondo doesn't seem upset, rather he dons a smile and sips his drink, attentive eyes focused on Taka. "What do ya do for a living?" </p><p>"Corporate nonsense." He had never spoken about his job in such a way before, though he had always thought it. "And you, Owada?"</p><p>"Mondo is fine." He sighs, finishes his drink and places the empty glass on the bar before saying, "I sell motorbikes." </p><p>"Really?" There's a thin veil of false surprise hiding the fact that, to Kiyotaka, nothing sounds more boring than retail - and that's coming from a man with an office job. Taka knows he has always been a bad liar, ever since birth, but Mondo's grin just widens as he asks, "so, Mr I'm-Going-to-Drink-the-Bar-Dry, what are ya here celebrating?" </p><p>Taka can't help but laugh. <em>Celebrating</em>. Truthfully, Taka had never celebrated a thing. His birthdays were eaten up by intense studying; his parents deprived him of the joy of social holidays; nothing ever happened in his life that was particularly worth celebrating. In his youth, when other high-schoolers were out partying, his parents were drilling a strict 'all work, no play' regime into his head. Taka didn't begin to mind until he was halfway through college, and realised that perhaps his parents' orders and behaviour wasn't normal; the revelation had led to a semi-drunken night at the bar, much like this, and a brief hookup with an upperclassman that became more serious after a while. And that was the first, the only, time he had ever celebrated. </p><p>"What is there to celebrate?" He says with a grimace. </p><p>"Oh, so yer here to escape everythin' going on in yer life then." Mondo shrugs, calls the bartender over, "Leon! Two more!" </p><p>"I'm gonna have to cut him off soon, Mondo, otherwise he's gonna go stumbling through the streets and get hit by a car," the bartender replies, pretending like Kiyotaka isn't even there at all. But he complies and begins preparing two more drinks. </p><p>"You know the bartender by name and <em>I'm </em>the one here to escape?" Kiyotaka lets himself say, unafraid of consequence for the first time in a good many years. He hopes that, maybe, if he speaks rudely enough to this stranger, this stranger will slam his face into the bar and break his nose. And the pain will be so bitterly sweet that it's all Taka can think of. His words mix together and mingle into a new kind of unheard dialect, receiving a chuckle from Mondo, but Taka doesn't hear it in his own voice. Hell, Taka can barely hear his own voice: the music in the bar has started to get louder. </p><p>"I know the bartender by name because we went to high school together, asshole." But Mondo's voice doesn't carry an ounce of hurt, or anger, or even a hint of contemplating laying a hand on Kiyotaka. "His name is Leon Kuwata and he <em>was</em> an aspiring musician. He and his husband got married last year actually-"</p><p>"Husband?" Kiyotaka feels that sick rot build up in his stomach again, just at his prompting of such a question. </p><p>"Shit, yeah, his name's Yasuhiro Hagakure, but we all just call him Hiro. And-"</p><p>"No, no." Taka, still propping his head up with his hand, his elbow planted on the bar, turns in his chair to face Mondo. "<em>Husband?</em>"</p><p>"Yeah, why? Yer not homophobic, are you?" </p><p>Ignoring the question, Taka turns back around, looking at the elegant display of various liquor bottles atop glass shelves behind the bar, and he begins talking to himself. A detail Taka would later remember is that, when drunk, he typically tends to think more aloud than he does in his head. "I mean, how do you even get married like that? To another man? Doesn't- Doesn't that defeat the whole point? I mean, a man and a woman, that just...that just makes sense, but two guys-"</p><p>And Taka feels himself crying. Because he won't admit it to himself, but some days marrying another man is all he can dream of. He hides his face in his hands and behind his drink, empties the glass in a single gulp, and continues to sob into his own forearms, repeating that same phrase 'it just doesn't make sense' to himself over and over. </p><p>"Shit, man, are you-" Mondo begins, turning around in his seat to look for somebody who might know what to do. Luckily, Chihiro is drying his hands on his pants as he steps out of the bathroom. "Hey, dude, is your friend okay?" </p><p>"Oh! Oh, uhm...Taka, you okay?" </p><p>Silence. </p><p>"I think he should prolly go home. I don't mind walkin' him if ya know his address." </p><p>Chihiro shakes his head, "I don't. He's not very upfront with his personal life." </p><p>Mondo sighs. "He should prolly go back to yer house then. He can't be out wanderin' the streets on his own like this." </p><p>Chihiro nods and, with the help of Mondo, who had just slapped down a decent amount of money on the counter, leverages him over both of their shoulders. </p><p>"Let's get you some rest, buddy," Mondo says. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Headache</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW FOR AB//SE</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Kiyotaka awakes in the morning, his head is pounding. He's still in his clothes from last night and, as he pushes himself up onto his elbows. He's lying on a sofa in a room he doesn't recognise. His head feels like it's being squeezed by an unstoppable voice, his brain yelling 'no' in an attempt to help, all of it a surprisingly oppressive force. Everything hurts. Everything feels stiff, and he doesn't want to move or stand up or even find out where the hell he is. </p><p>"Ooh, he wakes," a familiar voice sounds from behind. It's unmistakable for Chihiro's, becoming even more evident that it is, in fact, him when he appears wielding two coffee cups. "Here you go." He places one down on the coffee table in front of Taka, who dismissively shakes his head. </p><p>"No, thank you." His own voice sounds too loud like he's yelling at somebody from across the room in a nightclub with an eclectic amalgamation of people trying to be heard over deafening music. </p><p>"You need to fill your stomach up with <em>something</em>." Taka continues to shake his head and so Chihiro sighs, sitting on the sofa opposite his coworker. "You're lucky I called Takahashi and told him that you're too sick to come to work." </p><p>"No- No, why would you do that? Chihiro-" He tries to sit up, tries to sound angry or intimidating, but his head only hurts more and he's left with sinking nausea building up in his lower abdomen that causes him to lower himself back down into a recline. The room seems too bright and too dimly lit all at the same time. </p><p>"Are you kidding? You threw up <em>three times</em> last night, not including the one time on that stranger from the bar's shoes." </p><p>"Oh God, did I at least apologise?" </p><p>"No, you said he deserved it for walking too close." Chihiro laughs and Taka grabs one of the cushions and slams it over his face in a pitiful sort of shame. "He knew you were drunk, Taka. He won't hold it against you." </p><p>"Did I say...anything?" </p><p>Chihiro shakes his head. "You tried to get him to break your nose, but aside from that-"</p><p>"Oh, Jesus Christ!" Taka yells into the pillow, angrier at the fact that he let himself get so drunk than at the fact that he would say something like that. </p><p>"He asked me to put your number in his phone, which I did, by the way. So if you get any weird texts, it's probably him. Oh, and you got a bunch of calls from your wife a few hours ago; I just let them go to voicemail. I didn't-"</p><p>"God, shit, goddammit. I need to go home. Sorry, Chihiro." He stands up abruptly, his head instantly spinning from the rush, all of his aches amplifying a hundred times. Chihiro opens his mouth to say something, but Taka catches him before he can and interjects with, "I'll be fine. I just need to go home." </p><p>Taka rushes home, hardly knowing where he is or even how to get home. One of his shoelaces is untied and the other is slowly untying itself as he walks through the grey city street. He feels like he's a few steps away from vomiting, but he suppresses it and spurs on. He tries to tell himself everything will be fine. But he knows it's not true. The rain begins to pour after a good ten minutes of his frantic searching for a familiar building. He gets soaked quickly but pays it no heed, trying instead to just find a way home. After a while, his office building comes into view and he sighs with relief, using that as his anchor home. "Left here, sharp right, forward, forward, left," he mumbles to himself, receiving odd looks from those out and about with their umbrellas. </p><p>He fumbles with the key in his pocket before the door swings inwardly open and there she stands. Angry. Pissed off. Trying to seem composed. If it hadn't been for the rain hiding his tears, she would have started shouting at him for crying. Taka knew the tears were going to slide down his cheeks before they even did. A fear swallows his heart. His wife's face looks like his father's. His hands shake in front of him. She grabs him by the hair and yanks him inside before slamming the door. </p><p>"Where the fuck were you?" she shrieks, fuelling his headache. </p><p>"I was with-"</p><p>"Sorry, you think I give a shit? No, no, what <em>I</em> give a shit about is the fucking texts I received from you last night, not knowing where the fuck you were or who you were with! Let's read some shall we?" She takes out her phone and Taka can feel himself sinking to the ground. "'I hate you', 'unhappy to be with you', 'I don't even like having sex with you'-"</p><p>"I was drunk. I'm sorry, honey, you know I love you-"</p><p>"You were fucking drunk? Whilst I waited here worried fucking sick? Fuck you."</p><p>And she hits him. </p><p>Over the side of the head. </p><p>The impact wasn't that forceful, but it knocks him to the ground. </p><p>"Get the fuck up. <em>GET THE FUCK UP.</em>" Kiyotaka hesitates, but he drags himself to his knees. And he knows it's coming, but it doesn't mean he doesn't fall again when she hits him again. "You should be fucking rejoicing that I'm still married to you, faggot. If your father found out-"</p><p>"Please don't- Please don't tell him," Taka whispers, his voice broken and choked by tears. He dares to look her in the eyes as he whispers another please. </p><p>She squats down, an almost empathetic look in her eyes igniting hope in his chest. "I will fucking tell him," she whispers back before standing and grabbing his forearm, digging her nails into his skin, dragging him along the floor, throwing him against their coffee table. He feels the corner prod into his back with a sharp pain "Now get your ass ready for work. You're already late." </p><p>"I'm not going," he whispers, hoping she didn't hear. But as usual, she does. </p><p>"You're not going? Why? Because you're lazy. Because you're a fucking lazy, pathetic piece of shit. Just throw away all of your hard work. Throw it all away. Your father will be pleased to hear-"</p><p>"No, I'm sorry. Please, I'll go. I'll go." He clings to her calf like a dog. </p><p>And, like a dog, she pets his hair. Her voice gentle, she says, "good boy."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. All Work, No Play</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Taka sits in his desk chair, his head swirling, his arm aching from his wife's fingernail imprints, his back still feeling like it has the table corner prodding into it. He hasn't done a single piece of work in the last hour. All he can do is ask himself why him under his breath. His shaky fingers begin to type at the keys before his phone starts ringing in his pocket. A number he doesn't recognise. Warily, but somewhat foolishly, he answers. "Hello?" </p><p>"Well, if it ain't Mr Break-My-Nose." Kiyotaka instantly recognises that voice, the stranger from the bar, despite the fact he remembers very little about last night. "I was afraid yer friend had given me the wrong number." </p><p>"No, he wouldn't. Listen, anything I said last night-"</p><p>"No sweat, bro; you were drunk. People stay stupid shit when they're drunk. Hell, I once told my ex-girlfriend, when we were together, that I fucked her brother and-"</p><p>"Hm? What? Sorry, what?" For some reason, Taka can't believe that people are so nonchalant about having 'relations' with members of the same gender. If it had been him, if he had dared to talk about such a thing, it would be under a stammered, shaky breath, under the hopes that nobody would hear him. </p><p>"Ah, I forgot you were homophobic," Mondo on the other end says, laughing. </p><p>"No-"</p><p>"Chill out, bro. I'm kiddin'." And, though he's never done this before, he relaxes in his chair, letting himself smile as he talks to this stranger. "I just wanted to make sure yer okay; I mean you drank a fuckton last night. It really got ya messed up. I hope you spend yer day off relaxing." </p><p>"Oh, no, I'm at work right now."</p><p>"Yer what? Hey, c'mon, with the amount that ya drank last night, how drunk you were, you should have a raging hangover right now. I mean seriously bad, like 'I-am-never-leaving-this-bed' bad."</p><p>"No, I do, I definitely do, but-" He cuts himself off before he can mention his wife because, for some reason, he doesn't want this stranger to even know that he has a wife. That he's married. And to a woman around whom he feels like he's walking on glass shards. "But I just...felt like I needed to come to work."</p><p>"Have ya taken any medication for it?"</p><p>"No, I didn't even think to."</p><p>"Damn, bro, you're really just out here working with what I would assume is the worst hangover you've had, running on what I'm guessing is an empty stomach and no medication."</p><p>"How did you know I haven't eaten?"</p><p>"When you were drunk, ya told me about how much ya hate yer body. How you'd do anythin' for a nicer one. If you'd've given me the chance to tell ya then, I woulda told ya that yer body is just fine the way it is. I mean, it's doing its job." Taka feels himself smile. "All of yer organs are still contained." Mondo pauses and then adds, "I hope." </p><p>"Oh, did I not tell you? All of my organs fell out this morning."</p><p>"Damn, really? And you're still at work? Well, sir, I salute you for that." The two of them exchange chuckles until Mondo's voice dies down and becomes more serious. "I feel bad for ya."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"I dunno, feel like you've got a lotta problems ya can't tell anybody about. You have troubled childhood vibes." Taka doesn't let himself even think about his childhood before he says, "not me, I'm afraid. Just...don't like my body, that's all."</p><p>"Well...we should get dinner, whenever yer work ends. So I can make sure ya eat somethin' today." </p><p>Kiyotaka finds an eager 'yes' climbing its way up to his throat, but he chokes it down with thoughts of this morning. "I'm sorry, I can't. I'm busy tonight."</p><p>"Fuck, bro, that sucks. Just send me a text whenever yer free and we can go out for somethin' to eat. Totally platonic, though, Mr Homophobic." Mondo laughs and Kiyotaka can't help but smile at the sound. "Right, well, I gotta go. My break's over. See ya around, bro." </p><p>"Yeah, yeah, 'see you around'." Kiyotaka hesitates to hang up, as does Mondo, and the phone call runs on for an extra few seconds until Taka manages to force his thumb to press the button. His heart sinks in his chest as he puts his phone away and goes back to staring at his computer screen with a mind-numbing sense of agitation building up inside him. </p><p>The door to the office swings open and Chihiro steps in, making his way over with a concerned and almost offended expression. "Kiyotaka!" And Taka felt a sense of dread build up. His breath hitches and quickens, his heart racing. <em>Why is he shouting what did I do wrong please help why what did I go why is he shouting at me I'm sorry I'm sorry, </em>Taka thinks but it escapes his lips in the form of a choked sort of sound. His hands begin to further shake. </p><p>"Why are you here? I told you that I-"</p><p>"I know, I know. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I'm sorry. Please don't..."</p><p>"Taka, are you okay?" Kiyotaka looks up to Chihiro, his face blurred by a cloud of tears that had formed over his eyes. He blinks them away. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" Chihiro moves a hand to wipe at his tears, but Taka flinches, his hands moving up over his head in a horrible, defensive position. "Taka, did something happen?" </p><p>"No, no, nothing. It's fine. I'm fine," he replies, lowering his arms. "It's okay. I'm sorry for coming in today; I had to, though, I had to and I'm sorry for it, but I had to." </p><p>"Geez, you don't need to apologise. I didn't mean to...scare you. I think that's what this is, isn't it? You're scared?" </p><p>"No, no. I don't get scared anymore, I promise." But his phone starts ringing and he jumps at the sound. He picks it up from the desk, hoping to see that unrecognisable number once again, but instead seeing, in bold white letters, the word 'Father'. He clears his throat quickly before answering, wiping at his eyes. </p><p>"Get the fuck home right now," his father screams. "RIGHT NOW."</p><p>"I'm at work right now, I can't-"</p><p>"Are you speaking back to me, Kiyotaka? Get the fuck home NOW." And his father hangs up. </p><p>"I need to go home," he says, turning to Chihiro. "Can you tell Takahashi that I felt ill or something? It's a...family issue." Chihiro nods with a smile. </p><p>"Sure thing! Say hi to your dad from me!"  </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Beautiful Boy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Taka's ears ring with a headache as his father screams at him. He feels his whole body shake at the sound of his father's voice, oppressive and banshee-like. He has been trying to hold back his tears, even though he can feel the burning around his eye sockets, but he can't keep it bottled up for as long as he has and soon, a few tears begin to roll down his cheeks.</p><p>"Oh, what? You're fucking crying now? We should have sent you to that fucking faggot camp; you're so pathetic," his father screams, practically spitting the last word. </p><p>Kiyotaka knows he should have become used to this by now, having had to hear it almost every day of his life, knows he should have found a way to drown out the sound of his father's voice, but everything just becomes louder. His hangover-induced headache isn't helping much. All he wants to do is get drunk again and forget about this all, forget about his life here. </p><p>His wife stands behind his father, hands folded across her chest, a triumphant sort of expression contorting her face. "Stop crying, fag," she says and Taka, his head down, almost hunched over, only starts to cry more. </p><p>He wants to stop. He wants to stop. He needs to stop. But he can't stop. </p><p>So his father, grabbing his shoulders with cruel and callous hands, shoves him to the floor of his own house, his head meeting with the ground with an awful 'thunk'. His brain, without time to register what has happened, too caught up in its own sadness, doesn't process the pain. He lies softly on the ground, wanting it all to be over, wanting <em>everything</em> to just be over as he continues to cry, his eyes squeezed shut. There's no movement from neither his wife nor his father and he hopes that, maybe, his wanting has manifested to reality. </p><p>And, as he dares to open his eyes to check, his father's steel-toed boot makes direct contact with his stomach, rolling him over onto his other side.</p><p>The pain is excruciating and Taka finds himself crying out with a garbled, muffled scream. His headache. The impact of his head on the floor. His father's boot against his stomach. The dryness of his throat. The burning of his eyes. His fingernails digging into his own forearms as he clutches his own body in his hands. </p><p>He feels his father's shoe meet with his shoulder roughly, dragging him over onto his back. Kiyotaka tastes copper building up in his mouth, undoubtedly the taste of blood. His father steps over him, leering at the sorry state of his son, squatting down and grabbing Taka's face in his hands, pressing so hard that he can feel the pain in his teeth. </p><p>"Please...stop..." Taka whispers through his tears. </p><p>"You won't learn otherwise, will you?"</p><p>"I'm sorry...I won't do it again...I'm sorry..."</p><p>"'Sorry'," his father begins, grabbing a handful of Taka's hair before he continues, "isn't good enough." And he drags Taka's head upwards, slamming the back of his skull against the floor. </p><p>All Taka can do is cry. </p><p>He can't speak. He can't scream. He can't plead for mercy. He can't ask for help. </p><p>He's all alone. </p><p>"You have no fucking idea how great of a dad I am to you, Kiyotaka. I clothed you. I fed you. I gave you a house. I paid for your wedding to your beautiful wife. I <em>could </em>have sent you away after I found about you and that faggot boyfriend of yours. But I didn't, did I?" Taka weakly shakes his head. "And why didn't I, Kiyotaka?" </p><p>"Because you're a good father," Taka whispers through the numbing pain. </p><p>"'Good'?"</p><p>"Great. You're a great father."</p><p>Kiyotaka hopes that if he lies on his back, he'll start to swallow his own blood and will, eventually, choke to death on it. </p><p>"<em>Thank you.</em>" And he hears his father recede, having a whispered conversation with his wife. He then returns and says, "your wife doesn't want you staying home tonight. You understand why don't you?" </p><p>Kiyotaka nods. </p><p>"Go," his wife says curtly. "Now." </p><p>And Taka does. He knows he has to. He's afraid of the consequences if he doesn't. But that doesn't mean he doesn't struggle to get to his hands and knees, let alone to stand. His blood and saliva mix in his throat; he wants to spit it to the floor but knows he can't. He wipes his reddened lips on the back of his hand, leaving a dark smudge to stain his skin and remind him of today. </p><p>He drags himself out of the house, flinching as the door slams behind him. His whole body is shaking. His whole body is in pain. It's unusually dark out. </p><p>Kiyotaka takes his phone from his pocket, the screen now slightly cracked in the corner. With numb fingers, he texts somebody, "Hey, I'm sorry to just spring this upon you, but my wife and I had a bit of a falling out, and I need somewhere to stay tonight. Do you mind if I sleep at yours?"</p><p>And the stranger from the bar replies, "?? sure". </p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Not Where I'm Meant to Be</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kiyotaka drags himself through the rainy street as he tries to find out where the hell Mondo Owada lives. After a good hour or so, the blood from his lips having dried, he stops outside of an apartment. He knocks on the door with what little strength is left in him, stopping himself from falling down; the door opens after a few moments and there that stranger is. </p><p>"Shit, dude, ya look like hell. Come in." And Taka does. </p><p>Not because it feels safe (he learnt a while ago that feeling safe never means safety), but because he's cold. And he knows it's stupid that all he can think about is how could he is, but what else is there to think of that isn't horribly depressing? His world is slowly falling around him and all he can think of his how cold he is. And his clothes are more rain-sodden than ever before. His shirt is practically transparent as it clings to his body. He sits down on the sofa weakly and Mondo gently sits beside him. </p><p>"Are you okay?" Mondo asks, presumably having noticed the dried blood on Taka's lips. Or maybe it's the vacant stare, almost looking through the floor. "It looks like a helluva disagreement ya got into." </p><p>No response. </p><p>"Man, your hair is <em>wet</em>." Mondo raises a hand and Kiyotaka's whole body flinches. His hand stops midair and lowers down to his side. "C'mon, ya gotta tell me what the hell happened to ya."</p><p>"My wife and I just...had a disagreement," Taka whispers, not wanting to talk about it. </p><p>And Mondo seems to notice as he says, "lemme help ya take yer made off it. We can talk about somethin' else, like...uhh...I didn't know ya had a wife."</p><p>"Three years now."</p><p>"Three years, huh? Ya must really love her to have gotten married to her." </p><p>Taka starts crying again as he manages to say, "yes. She's great. My father likes her so she's great."</p><p>"Yer dad likes her? Is that the only reason <em>you</em> like her?" Taka looks weakly up at Mondo as he shakes his head, saying, "no, no. She's great." </p><p>Mondo sighs, telling him, "lemme get ya some dry clothes. You'll catch a cold if ya stay in these." And he stands and disappears for a few moments. </p><p>And Taka's all alone. He's so alone. And everything hurts. God, everything fucking hurts. He wishes he had parents who loved him. He wishes he didn't need to shove it all down to seem okay. He wishes he could just talk to his friend about it. He can't and he knows he can't. Because he doesn't think he deserves it. And he doesn't think Chihiro would take him seriously. And he wants to get away from it all. But he's so scared of the consequences. Of his parents somehow finding him. Of his father calling the police. Of everything and anything.</p><p>So all he has is the pain. And where would he be without it? He would be completely and utterly lost. It's been the only constant in his life. Everything hurts, yes, but he doesn't think he deserves any better than that. His parents showed him, from a young age, that he doesn't deserve better than the pain. </p><p>"Here ya go," Mondo says, offering out a neatly folded pile of clothes. "I tried to find some, uh, ones that'd hide yer body." Mondo quickly adds, "not that I think ya should hide yer body, obviously. But just so that ya'd feel more, y'know, comfortable, I guess."</p><p>"Thank you," Taka replies, taking them and setting them on his lap. It's unfortunate to think, but it's one of the kindest gestures he's ever been shown. </p><p>"I'll, uh, look away as ya get changed." Mondo spins around, facing the wall, his hands over his eyes. Taka smiles slightly at the sight, beginning to undress himself. He tries to remind himself that feeling safe NEVER means safety, but, even after everything that has just happened, he doesn't listen to his own thoughts. He tries to hide the bruises on his waist, and thighs and back and wrist and God knows where else, as he changes, despite knowing that Mondo isn't looking. He pulls on the pair of grey sweatpants first, followed by the black sweater. Everything is just a little too big for him and it's nice that way. </p><p>"Can I turn around yet?" Mondo asks and Taka gives him a sheepish 'yes'. Mondo, turning around, seeing Taka folding his clothes, warmly smiles, sitting back down beside him. "Do ya wanna talk about it?" </p><p>"No, nothing particularly bad happened." </p><p>"God, yer such a bad liar." </p><p>"Excuse me?" Taka says, a thin thread of humour hanging onto his voice. "It's true; I deserved what happened." </p><p>"And? What happened?" </p><p>"She just yelled at me."</p><p>"God, dude, fuck her! I refuse to believe you did anything bad enough to deserve to get yelled at." Taka wants to interject with 'but I did' until Mondo continues to talk. "Growin' up, my parents used to fight all the time. It'd scare the shit outta me. My brother was really the only one who was able to comfort me. He'd sneak me outta the house and we'd walk around 'til I'd calmed down. If the fighting was really bad, he'd give me a ride on his motorcycle across town and buy me an ice cream or somethin'."</p><p>"Your brother sounds great." Taka feels tears forming behind his eyes, knowing that all he has ever wanted is a sibling who would have kept him safe from his family. "I'm sorry about your parents. Nobody should have to go through that." </p><p>"Nah, it's fine. Builds character, y'know?" Mondo says through a laugh and Taka forces himself to chuckle. "What about you? I'm almost 99% sure somethin' fucked up happened in your childhood. Just based on the vibes I get from ya."</p><p>"No, I had a pretty happy childhood," he lies. "My parents liked each other. My father was always nice to me. My grandfather..." Just mentioning his grandfather made him feel sick, so he let himself trail off. "Lots of friends. I was well-liked. No siblings, though." </p><p>"Damn, yer lucky." </p><p>And Taka can only smile and nod. </p><p>"So lucky," he says. </p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Nobody</h2></a>
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    <p>It's ten o'clock at night when Taka hears the door open and Mondo enters, carrying a plastic bag of takeaway Chinese food. All Kiyotaka had been doing since Mondo left for those few hours was sitting on the sofa and ignoring his phone's notifications. He knows he'll have to check them at some point but, right now, he'd rather just ignore it all. </p><p>"Here ya go," Mondo says, setting the bag on the coffee table. "I wasn't sure what to get ya so I just got ya some noodles." Kiyotaka watches as Mondo takes out a white takeaway container and places it on the table in front of Taka. "Thinkin' about it now that, uhh, prolly isn't gonna suffice, huh?" </p><p>Kiyotaka lets himself smile, rather at the gesture than at what Mondo is saying. "No, no, it's fine. Thank you. I haven't got my wallet on me right now, but I'll pay you back whenever I can."</p><p>"Pay me back?" Mondo asks, sounding both confused and humoured at the same time, taking out the remaining contents of the bag as he spoke. "It wasn't that expensive, bro. I think I'll be able to manage." Kiyotaka looks at him blankly. "Y'know that somebody buyin' ya food isn't a loan, right?" Kiyotaka continues to stare, clueless, before summoning up enough courage to say:</p><p>"But you just wasted your money on me. It's only decent of me to pay you back; I mean, I could have gone without food but-" Taka is interrupted by Mondo gently tossing a pair of chopsticks in his direction and they fall into his lap softly. He takes this as a sign to be quiet and so looks up at Mondo once more, smiling, saying, "thank you." </p><p>"Eh, no sweat." </p><p>The two of them sit in silence on the sofa, eating their takeaway, Mondo wolfing his down as animalistic as Kiyotaka had ever seen whilst he casts nervous glances in his direction. Mondo, however, takes no notice and eats his food rapidly, with little concern for how he looks doing so, almost blocking Taka, who is eating much slower and much more tamely, out entirely. It doesn't take Mondo long before he finishes his food, placing his empty container, his used chopsticks inside, onto the coffee table. Kiyotaka takes a few more bites of his own, suppressing the urge to think about the caloric content of what he was eating, before he places the half-filled container onto the table, beside Mondo's, which has fallen over from the weight of the chopsticks. </p><p>"I'm sorry that I didn't finish," Kiyotaka says, feeling his body tense up as he prepares to be hit. </p><p>"Nah, it's fine; ya ate more than I thought ya would." And Taka feels himself ease up a little. "Are you...okay?" Mondo asks tentatively before adding, "I mean, like, is yer family situation okay? Yer wife doesn't...hurt ya, does she?" </p><p>Kiyotaka feels tears form in his eyes, but he shakes his head at Mondo's question, dismissing his own thoughts and sadnesses with relative ease. </p><p>"Good," Mondo says with a half-smile. "If she ever does, ya can always come here, y'know? Like a uhh...safe space, I guess. Fuck, it's kinda weird that we hardly know each other and yer already sleepin' over at mine. I did buy ya dinner first, though," Mondo says with a wink before standing and taking the collected trash from the coffee table, leaving the room for a few moments before returning empty-handed. </p><p>"Are ya workin' in the morning?" Taka nods. "Ah, well, ya'd better be gettin' to sleep then, huh?" Taka nods again, feeling his position on the couch change to a slight recline. "Fuck off, man," Mondo says with a laugh as Kiyotaka sits up. "Ya can sleep in my bed for tonight. Not with me, obviously, but just- Yer a guest so ya deserve a real bed."</p><p>"I'm perfectly fine sleeping on the couch. I don't want to be doubly burdensome by taking your bed as well."</p><p>"Nah, I'm offerin' it to ya. C'mon." Taka finds himself rising, his knees shaking a little bit. "I dunno what's happened that made ya have to stay over tonight, but ya deserve to have a nice bed to sleep in. But no promises that my bed is <em>that </em>nice; I know that ya work at a corporate buildin' so yer probably more used to...uh...luxury, I guess?" </p><p>"I'm sure it will be fine." Kiyotaka lets Mondo lead him to his bedroom, which is a quaint little room, kept neat which Taka wasn't quite expected given the burly appearance of the man. </p><p>"Here ya go." </p><p>"Honestly, I don't want to be troublesome and take your bed from you. I would prefer to sleep on the sofa, or the floor, if it meant that you-"</p><p>"Dude, seriously, I will <em>share</em> the bed with you if it will make you just take the bed." Taka finds himself silent.</p><p>And so does Mondo. Until he says, "So, uh...ya wanna share the bed then?" </p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Thistle & Weeds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That night, as Kiyotaka lies on his back, arms glued to his sides, staring at the ceiling, the wind outside blows wildly. It had caused Mondo to stir every once in a while, but, other than those few occasions, he sleeps soundlessly, lying on his side away from Taka in an almost foetal position. Kiyotaka hears him mumble something under his breath, dreary from his slumber and still fast asleep.</p><p>It's four in the morning before Taka, agitated from sharing a bed with another man, can even find himself starting to grow tired. He tries to tell himself there's nothing romantic, or sexual, or hardly even platonic, in this situation, but, no matter what, he feels a great, engulfing guilt swell in his stomach. He thinks of what his father and wife might say if they were to see him as he is and that alone hardly helps his insomnia. Mondo has taken up a good three-quarters of the bed, though Taka himself has shuffled himself off to the very edge in order to stray from the other's touch. Every now and then, he finds himself turning his head to see Mondo, his hair down and messy, his eyes free of dark eyeliner, snoring lazily and weakly in a pair of boxer shorts and a white tank top; even just looking at him makes Taka want to sink to his knees and cry out apologies to his parents and wife. </p><p><em>Does...this count as cheating?</em> he finds him asking himself in his own head. He tries to find the thought that gives a clear 'no' as an answer, but nothing accumulates. </p><p>The alarm clock on the right side of the bed reads '04:54', but knowing the time doesn't begin to tire him at all, as it usually would. If Taka were the man he was in college, he might have fallen asleep by now, curled up beside Mondo, his hands subconsciously wrapped around the other, but no. Taka vowed never to be that man again after his father caught him. "And look where that's gotten me," Taka whispers to himself, careful to keep his voice as low as possible to not disturb Mondo, who turns over to face Taka. </p><p>Kiyotaka dares to look and feels his face flush with heat as he does so: Mondo's under-eyes weren't completely free of eyeliner and now, the small remnants of eyeliner left have smudged and given him a messy, unkempt sort of look; his hair falls into his face quite perfectly like icicles from tree branches; he looks peaceful, almost like a dead man, his shoulders rising and falling with every long breath and hushed snore. His face is rather far away but still too close for Taka's liking, causing him to feel he must lean backwards until he feels half of his body hanging from the mattress. Mondo's hand moves, lazily wiping at something under his eye before falling back to his side and Taka shuffles back a quarter-inch or so. </p><p>Taka, out of boredom and out of fear of his own thoughts, looks to Mondo once again. He has a tattoo on his outer thigh that Taka can't quite make out. He has a scar on the arch of his eyebrow that looks old and shows no sign of disappearing any time soon. There's another, small scar on the left side of his bottom lip that looks fresher than the scar on his eyebrow, but not new at all. He has another tattoo of something else indecipherable on the right side of his chest, mostly hidden by his shirt. And Kiyotaka, disgusted by his own inquisitiveness, forgetting how far over the edge of the bed he is, tries to roll over. </p><p>His head hits the bedside drawer with a loud thud as his body makes harsh contact with the ground. "Holy shit!" Taka hears Mondo shout with surprise, his voice still slightly weary. "Fuck, man, you okay?"</p><p>Taka lets a tear roll down his cheek. After just over twenty years of pain just like this, he never gets used to it. His head hurts. Nonetheless, he rolls over onto his back, opening his eyes slightly to see Mondo peering down at him from the edge of the bed, his hair even messier than before, panic welded into his eyes. "I'm fine, I promise," Taka tries to say in reply, but his voice is strained by a sharp, almost burning sensation running through the left side of his body. His head has a dull but oppressive ache to it. All Taka can think is, <em>maybe this is the universe punishing me for looking at him like that</em>. </p><p>"Fuck, man, no yer not." Mondo wipes at his eye with the side of his hand before stepping off the bed. Taka's whole body flinches with fear at the thought of Mondo about to press his foot down on Taka, as his father sometimes would whenever he would do something really bad like forget to wash his dishes or take a break from homework, or what have you. But Mondo, instead, steps over him. </p><p>"Jesus, dude, what were ya doing that far at the edge of the bed?" Mondo, now squatting beside Taka, says through a yawn that he tried, and failed, to suppress. "Fuckin' hell, bro."</p><p>Kiyotaka lets himself turn to face Mondo. "Where does it hurt?" Mondo asks sleepily. </p><p>"Everywhere," Taka says, his voice cracking. </p><p>"Okay, c'mon, ya need to get off the floor." </p><p>As Taka begins to find the strength to stand, he feels Mondo pick him up like a groom with his bride, one arm around his shoulders, the other under his knees. "I can stand," Taka wants to say, but he finds himself silenced, looking up at Mondo in awe. He gently lays him on the bed, slightly upright; Taka, at a loss for words, follows Mondo with his eyes as he drifts away, out of the room. </p><p>If he weren't already in so much pain, Taka would probably throw his head backwards, making sure to hit the headboard aggressively and painfully. <em>Who are you, Taka? </em>he asks himself, disappointed he would ever let himself be handled like that. </p><p>Mondo, after a few moments, comes back, carrying a bag of frozen peas in one hand and a first-aid kit in the other, his eyes barely open. He climbs onto the bed over Taka, who pushes himself to sit more upright; Mondo kneels over him, his knees parted with Taka's shaking legs between. After a brief yawn, Mondo asks, "where did ya hit yer head?" Taka, making direct, unwavering eye contact with Mondo, who had his eyes open just a little, points vaguely at the left side of his head. Mondo sleepily nods, gently applying the bag of frozen peas on the area, making sure to apply as little pressure as possible. </p><p>"I'm sorry that I woke you," he says, his voice hoarse from an odd mix of pain, embarrassment and awkwardness. </p><p>"Jesus, dude, you don't have to apologise for everythin'. You didn't fall off the bed 'cause ya wanted to wake me; it was accidental."</p><p>"Still-"</p><p>"I'd rather have had ya wake me up after ya fell than have stayed asleep an' just left ya there on the floor." Mondo subconsciously wipes at a tear that had just started to slip down Taka's face. "Did you hurt yerself anywhere else?" </p><p>"Not specifically, but the whole left side of my body hurts." </p><p>"I'm sorry but I haven't got anythin' for that. Dude, you have a small cut right under yer eye." Taka knows the one he's referring to; it isn't from the fall. It's from his father yesterday, but he hopes that Mondo, in his tiresomeness, can't tell that. And he doesn't. Instead, he takes a small, circular bandaid from the first-aid kit and applies it gently to the cut. "There." </p><p>"I'm sorry that you-" But Taka is cut off by Mondo placing his index finger over his mouth. </p><p>"How else can I stress that ya don't need to apologise?" Mondo seems too relaxed, but maybe it's just his sleepiness. "I just want ya to, y'know, <em>not </em>be in pain, bro." </p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Safe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"You can go back to sleep, you know," Kiyotaka says after an hour or so of Mondo lying next to him in bed, making sure that he's okay. </p><p>"No thank you." The distinctive weariness from his voice has subsided into a smoothness that Taka finds horrifyingly safe. "I don't want ya to fall off the bed again." He has humour in his voice that Taka can't help but be slightly, comically offended by. </p><p>"Can I ask you something?" Taka says, turning to face Mondo, who is lying on his side, staring dreamily up at Taka with his hands tucked under his head. </p><p>"Go for it." </p><p>"What are your tattoos? I noticed them before." Mondo sits up beside Kiyotaka as he adjusts his position so that his tattoos become more visible. "You don't have to tell me; I was just wondering." But Mondo, ignoring this addition, starts explaining:</p><p>"The one on my leg here," Mondo begins, tugging up his boxer shorts to reveal the tattoo in its entirety. It's a rather large, detailed, black and white piece that resembles a moth quite strikingly. "I got this when I turned seventeen. Growin' up, my brother used to tell me that moths could sometimes mean that ya were hidin' yer true self; when I was seventeen, I came out to my parents and, uh, they weren't very happy about it, so I kinda got this to remind myself that I don't gotta hide for anybody." Taka finds himself staring at the moth with an intense kind of enamour.</p><p>"The one on my chest here," Mondo continues, tugging his shirt down to reveal the piece, but some parts of it are still obscured by his shirt. It's a symbol of sorts: two circles, one within the other, securing an eight-pointed star in them. "Might sound kinda dumb, but my brother and I always wanted to start our own biker gang when we were younger. This is the logo that we designed for it. Even had a name for it: Crazy Diamonds, 'cos if ya put Daiya and Mondo together, it kinda sounds like 'Diamond', y'know? He got the same design on the left side of his chest so we match; I think it's prolly one of the reasons that we always make up pretty soon after an argument. It'd be pretty sad to have a matchin' tattoo with somebody that ya hate." </p><p>"That's nice," Taka mumbles, his thoughts clouded by tiresomeness and enamour at both of the tattoos. "Do you have any other tattoos?" </p><p>Mondo nods, saying, "I got another on my hip and one on my back. I wanna get another some day." </p><p>"Don't they hurt?" </p><p>"Like a <em>bitch</em>, dude," Mondo says, grinning and Taka can't help but laugh a little. "But they look cool so I don't really care." </p><p>"Which one hurt the most?" </p><p>"The one on my back: it's fuckin' huge, dude, and it took ages-" But Mondo is cut off by Taka's phone, lying face down on the bedside drawer, ringing and vibrating. Taka's fingers begin to tap against his own knee, agitated as he turns to pick it up. And there, his wife's name stares at him in bold, white letters. "Ya don't gotta answer it, bro. If she hurt ya-"</p><p>"She didn't," Kiyotaka says curtly, pressing 'ACCEPT'. "Hello?" His voice is all of a sudden timid and Taka sees a great concern building in Mondo's eyes as he watches him attentively. </p><p>"Honey, do you want to come home now? I'm so sorry, baby," his wife says, her voice sickly sweet like tainted meringue. </p><p>"I can be home in about ten minutes." </p><p>"Perfect." He hears his wife take a breath on the other line before she says, "I missed you." </p><p>Taka gulps, despite the fact his mouth is as dry as ever. "I miss you too." </p><p>"Come home soon, okay, darling? Bye-bye, now!" And the line goes dead. Taka, feeling his hands shaking and trying his hardest to suppress this, turns to Mondo with a smile and says, "sorry I have to go." </p><p>Mondo frowns. "Ya sound like a whole other person when ya talk to her."</p><p>"More loving?" Taka asks, forcing a laugh. </p><p>"More afraid." And Kiyotaka falls silent, but Mondo just sighs and stands up. "Yer clothes should be dry by now. I'll go get 'em."</p><p>Taka won't let himself say it, but he wishes Mondo would stay for those few extra seconds. He practically feels both hands reaching out to grab his wrist, to drag him back down, to let himself lose the rest of his life to five more minutes of that safe feeling, but he just watches Mondo leave the room. He almost cries, <em>almost</em>; Mondo doesn't need to see that and Taka's too afraid of what Mondo might think if he just saw him break down crying.</p><p>He has never told anybody about his wife or his parents or his grandfather or <em>anything about his family</em> ever before, but it seems that Mondo can just recognise that within him. Sometimes people got inquisitive or made assumptions, sure, but nobody has ever been able to just recognise how scared of his wife he really is. And now here was Mondo. Able to read Kiyotaka plainly. Despite all of the walls around he had built up around himself. Heck, Taka finds it funny that Chihiro still asks for silly family stories from Taka's youth, despite knowing him for the better half of two years now. </p><p>Mondo returns, placing Taka's now-dry, neatly folded clothes at the foot of the bed. "Here ya go." His voice is sullen all of a sudden, sober and serious, stricken with a gloom that Taka finds almost scary. </p><p>"Did I do something wrong?" Taka finds himself asking, his voice lowered to a whisper, afraid that Mondo might just hit him for not knowing what it was that he did wrong. </p><p>"No, 'course not. I just don't wanna see ya go back to her if it's not safe-"</p><p>"It's safe, I promise. I'm okay. I'm fine." </p><p>Kiyotaka forces a smile, but Mondo doesn't reciprocate it. "Whatever you say," he says, sounding more unconvinced than Taka had ever heard anybody sound. </p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Sleep on the Floor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>its been a little too nice recently don't u think</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kiyotaka can sense Mondo's presence on the other side of the door as he rushes to get changed. He buckles his belt and buttons up his shirt, before neatly folding up the clothes Mondo had lent to him and placing them at the foot of the bed. "Are ya almost done?" Mondo asks calmly from outside the door, close enough that Taka assumes he must be leaning against it. </p><p>"Yes, I'm done," Kiyotaka says and he hears the door open. He turns as Mondo walks in, carrying his shoes for him, and, soundlessly, he offers them. Taka accepts them, sitting on the bed as he pulls them on and ties the laces. </p><p>"I've said this a thousand times now, but are ya sure it's safe for ya?" </p><p>Kiyotaka wants to say 'no'. "Of course." He forces a smile, one that he hopes will hide the tears brimming in his eyes. </p><p>"Alright. Long as yer sure." Mondo gently lays his hand atop Taka's hair and Kiyotaka, after failing to suppress a flinch, hangs his head down shamefully. </p><p>"Please..." Kiyotaka begins to say, slowly bringing his face up to look at Mondo. He knows there's no hiding his sadness now, not with the way his face is contorting or the way his vision is blurred from the tears. "Please can you take your hand off of me?" He knows he sounds horrible for asking but Mondo complies without saying anything. Kiyotaka stands weakly. "I need to go now." </p><p>"Right, yeah. See ya around." They both linger there for a moment, Mondo looking at Taka and Taka looking to the ground. "If she ever does anything, you come here, alright?" Taka nods, knowing that he won't.</p><p>And then, without saying anything else, he leaves. </p><p>Walking home, he tries his hardest not to think about Mondo: he felt so <em>safe</em> around him not even half an hour ago and then, suddenly, it changed. Why did it change? A small part of Kiyotaka's brain pipes up with 'because you were reminded that you have a wife', but he tries his hardest to shake away that notion. Why would it matter if Taka was reminded that he was married when he was around him? Of course, it wouldn't. He almost hears his fathers echoing shout telling him that he wasn't raised to be a faggot as he reaches the front door of his house. </p><p>He gently knocks and it's only a few seconds before his wife swings the door open. He forces a smile as he sees her, grinning, beaming, joyful as ever. "Oh, honey, come in. I missed you, baby." Taka obeys, walking in and letting his wife shut the door behind him. Immediately, she embraces him in an all too tight hug that he tries his best to reciprocate. </p><p>As she pulls away, she lays a hand on the side of his face, her thumb gently brushing over his dry and cracked lips. "I'm so sorry I had to do that to you last night. But you know why I had to, don't you?" she asks and Kiyotaka simply nods, trying his best not to look at her. "It's just like your father says, isn't it? You won't learn otherwise." She sighs. "Where did you sleep?" </p><p>"My friend's house," he replies tonelessly, fighting back the thought that he sounds like a guilty teenage boy trying to explain where he was to his mother. </p><p>"Your friend from work?" </p><p>"No, my friend that I met at the bar." Kiyotaka he doesn't realise what he has said until he has said it. He watches as his wife's face falls flat, an almost seething type of rage evident behind her eyes. </p><p>"Your friend that you met at the bar?" He feels her hand starting to press down harder on his cheek. "Is this a man or a woman? What's their name?"</p><p>"His name is Mondo." He doesn't know why he's not lying. His brain is screaming at him to lie. What can't he lie? Her fingertips begin pressing against his face, hard and painful. He can see the question burning on her lips and, soon enough, she asks it:</p><p>"You're not becoming a faggot again, are you?" </p><p>Kiyotaka shakes his head. "No, of course not. He's not a faggot either." The words just spill from his lips as if he's been holding a mouthful of water. And the pressure from her hand on his face eases. </p><p>She smiles, sickly sweet. "Good." She taps the side of his face with two harsh and yet still somewhat gentle hits with her hand on the side of his face. "I'm going to ave to ask you to sleep on the floor tonight. You understand why, don't you?" Taka nods. </p><p>Because what else can he do? </p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Pity Party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kiyotaka leaves for work a little soon after his wife forces him to kiss her. He gets in his car, lets himself cry a little while before he starts to drive to work. </p><p>After his commute, he pulls into the parking lot, noticing Chihiro's bike, locked up against a signpost, bright green amongst the dark greys and blacks of other corporate cars. He sighs for a moment, wipes at his eyes, which are already dry, and gets out of the car. He knows that he's probably a little late already and he's afraid of what his boss might think, but he knows that anything his boss could do is a thousand times better than his home. </p><p>He greets the secretary with a small wave and a smile as he enters, taking the stairs as he usually does. He passes the mail carrier on his way up and greets him as well. He opens the door and braces for his name to be shouted, for his hair to be yanked out as he is dragged to his boss's office, but there's nothing of the sort. Everything is dark, the lights all switched off. He can't see a single person. He scratches at the knuckles on his left hand to cope, afraid of something...but Taka couldn't tell what. He takes a shaky step into the blackness and then...</p><p>The lights turn on. And the whole floor jumps up and screams, "happy birthday!" The loudness of the noise makes Taka's head twitch, the shouting forcing him into a state of panic. Truthfully, he had forgotten that it's his birthday: his parents had been ignoring it and his wife never once wished him a happy birthday. Plus, he has always hated his birthday. </p><p>His breathing is all too quick for comfort, his hands shaking. He tries to tell himself that it's a nice sentiment, that he shouldn't be acting like this when people have done something kind, but his brain doesn't listen. He feels his heart palpitating between his collarbones. His ribs feel tight all of a sudden and he wants nothing more than to just collapse to the ground, crying as he rocks back and forth. But it's Chihiro's voice hesitantly approaching that snaps him out of the thought. </p><p>"Taka? You okay?" He's carrying a rectangular, white birthday cake that has "HAPPY B-DAY TAKA!!!" written on it in red icing. Kiyotaka tries to nod, but his head rocks to the side awkwardly. </p><p>"I'm fine. Thank you." He forces a smile. "I take it that you organised this?" Chihiro nods eagerly and vehemently. "Sorry, I'm going to use the restroom real quick, if that's okay." But he doesn't wait for an answer before he rushes away. </p><p>He stares at himself in the mirror, a shaking mess, tears already pouring from his eyes. He doesn't know if it was the suddenness or the shouting alone that had reminded him of his father. His knuckles rap against the porcelain of the sink as he tries to talk himself out of this state of panic. It feels like he's having a heart attack, but he knows it's simply not true: he's felt this feeling far too many times in the past for it to definitely be a heart attack. <em>And, if it is a heart attack</em>, Taka thinks, <em>then let me die</em>.</p><p>He runs some cold water from the faucet and splashes his face with it, but it does nothing. He wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. He wants to be anywhere else but this town. The rhythmic tapping of his fingers against the porcelain begins to irk him but he can't stop himself; it's involuntary, his brain trying to cope he supposes. He runs a hand through his hair and tries to take a deep breath, but the exhalation is cut off by a thousand more, smaller, quicker breaths. </p><p>Taka hears the door creak open and he tries to make himself look as composed as possible, but even he knows that he's not very convincing. Chihiro's small frame steps around the door, bearing a pitiful, sympathetic smile. "Taka, are you sure you're okay?" </p><p>"Yes, I'm fine, I promise," he lies, forcing an all-too-fake grin. </p><p>"Because Mondo told me about last night-"</p><p>"Nothing happened last night." His voice is serious and abrupt all of a sudden, and he sees the shift in Chihiro's mood as he speaks like that. "I'm sorry, I just-"</p><p>"I meant between you and your wife, Taka." Chihiro's voice remains calm, cool, collected, and friendly. "Did she...do something?"</p><p>"No, no, I promise. I'm just-" He makes a vague gesture to the outside of the closed door. "Not good with shouting." He forces a face laugh and another smile, but he can feel further questions burning on Chihiro's lips. </p><p>"Do you mind telling me why?" Chihiro takes a few, soft steps over. </p><p>"I...I don't know," Taka lies, trying to make up some false excuse for his past. "I've always been like that. Maybe I just have sensitive ears." Taka urges a chuckle, but Chihiro's not laughing. </p><p>"Are you sure...?"</p><p>Taka nods. "I'm positive, Chi, I'll be okay."</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>But he can see that Chihiro doesn't believe him as he turns and leaves. </p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Let There Be Light</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>short chapter because im burnt out from school but still want 2 produce content &lt;3<br/>also im so scared that this story is getting boring or whatever so please...leave ur thoughts........&lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Somebody turns the lights off as Chihiro holds the cake, all ten candles burning brightly, in front of Taka, who's now donning a conical, red party hat. He grins as he blows the candle flames out and the lights turn back on, the sudden light making everybody wince. He feels his boss's firm grip on his shoulders, causing him to flinch until he turns and hears his boss wish him a happy birthday. </p><p>Kiyotaka doesn't remember when he told Chihiro that today is his birthday, but he doesn't want to bring it up: he watches as Chihiro sets the cake down on the counter where they would usually drink their coffee besides, offering him the knife for him to cut the cake with and Chihiro looks so <em>happy </em>that he can't bring himself to mention it. He takes the knife by the handle, making several, thin vertical cuts and several more horizontal cuts. Chihiro takes one of the paper plates and uses it to plate up a slice, offering it to Taka. </p><p>Taka reluctantly obliges, taking it but not eating it as Chihiro plates up the rest of the slices for everybody else. He takes a few steps back, away from the crowd when he hears his phone buzzing in his pocket. He sets his plate down at his cubicle before answering, "hello?" </p><p>"Hello, birthday boy!" Mondo's voice is all too comforting, smooth and low. "Ya shoulda fuckin' told me it'd be yer birthday last night, bro!"</p><p>"I forgot that it was if I'm being honest," Taka replies, lowering himself into his chair, smiling. </p><p>"God, well that's just depressin'."  He hears Mondo clear his throat before saying, "I was, uhh, wonderin' if ya'd like to go out for dinner tonight as a celebration. Totally platonic, obviously." His voice wavers. </p><p>Taka smiles a little wider. "Yes, of course. But I'll-"</p><p>"You'll need to tell yer wife, I know, I know. I don't want ya gettin' in trouble." He then pauses. "Or maybe I do if it means ya can spend the night at my house again." Taka lets himself chuckle. "When do ya finish work?"</p><p>"Seven, but I usually work a little longer, so about eight." </p><p>"Ugh, fuck that, yer finishin' at seven tonight." Taka laughs at Mondo's frustration, obviously exaggerated for comedic effect. "I'll pick ya up 'n' we'll go somewhere nice. Or somewhere completely shit if that's more yer vibe." </p><p>"Alright, alright, whatever you say," Taka trails off before adding, "I'll see you tonight then." </p><p>"I'm fuckin' <em>hyped!</em> See ya then. Don't forget to have a good birthday, okay?" Taka nods, replying with an okay before they exchange goodbyes and Mondo eventually hangs up. Taka grins as he reclines back in his chair, turning to see a very delighted-looking Chihiro. </p><p>"Sounds like somebody has a date," he says with a sing-song voice, rolling his shoulders before taking a bite of his cake with a plastic fork. </p><p>"Chihiro, <em>please</em>," Taka says with a laugh. </p><p>"I know, I know." He then deepens his voice in a joking mockery of Kiyotaka before saying, "'I'm a married man!'" </p><p>"Exactly, now go and fix a computer or whatever it is you do." Taka laughs, more so at Chihiro's exaggerated offended expression than at anything else. </p><p>"Rude!" he says before scowling, failing to suppress a smile. "I do need to go back to work anyway, so bye!" </p><p>He turns to leave before Taka says, "oh, and, Chihiro, thank you." Chihiro simply smiles back. </p><p>Now, it's just a matter of getting through the day until seven o'clock. Taka clicks on the Mail icon and sighs, taking a glance at his cake before sliding it into the trash can below his desk. "Too many calories," he whispers to himself as he reads through tens of pointless, boring, unimportant e-mails. </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Dinner and Diatribes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>yes the chapter title is a hozier reference...sigh.......<br/>im v sorry for the short-ish chapter but i just have very little motivation :(((<br/>also thank y'all for 1k reads and thank y'all for being patient with me for these slow updates &lt;3</p>
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    <p>It's raining, but Mondo brought an umbrella and he says he doesn't mind carrying it. The two of them are almost huddled together for warmth. Kiyotaka has to remind Mondo to readjust the umbrella every so often, but he doesn't mind and he quite likes the walk around the city as they search for somewhere to go. </p><p>"Imma be honest with ya, bro; I really don't know any fine-dining places," Mondo says behind a chuckle. </p><p>"I'll be honest with you too and say that most of them aren't even that good," Taka replies and he watches as Mondo smiles. "You aren't missing out on much." Mondo sighs with exaggerated relief. </p><p>Kiyotaka had forgotten to ask for his wife's permission to go out tonight, but he knew she would be out late and, as long as he gets home before her, he'll be safe; the thought of his wife doesn't even cross his mind once when he's around Mondo. </p><p>"We can just get a pizza or somethin' if that's more to yer taste," says Mondo, sounding more like he's thinking out loud rather than talking to Taka. </p><p>"I haven't had pizza in years, so...sure, why not?" Taka smiles, watching as Mondo looks down at him with a horrified-looking expression, laughing as Mondo starts complaining about how 'corporate' and 'fancy' Taka is. </p><p>After a few more minutes of walking, until Mondo had led Taka far out of his usual surroundings to an informal-looking pizza place, they stand in the rain, Mondo analysing the menu and Taka staring in awe at the abundance of neon signs in the window. "Yeah, this is the place. Okay, c'mon." And Mondo almost drags Kiyotaka in, his grip on his hand rather than his wrist. </p><p>"We'll share a pizza, bro, what do you want?" Mondo asks, letting go of Taka's hand, standing in the queue. Taka stares up at the menu as Mondo waves hello to one of the workers at one of the cash registers. "I'll eat anythin'. I mean, literally, anythin'." Taka smiles. </p><p>"Just...cheese, is that okay? Or is that too boring? I mean, it's up to you, I don't mind, but-"</p><p>"Cheese it is." Mondo grins down at Kiyotaka and Taka smiles back. They move up in the queue, Mondo orders and Taka keeps an eye out for an empty table for two. </p><p>The pizza place is lit by fluorescent white lights, hanging up on the ceiling, almost blinding to look at directly. Patrons are sat at almost every table: friends laughing, colleagues discussing work, partners playfully swatting at each other as they talk, parents trying to control their squabbling children. There's a yellow 'wet floor' sign in the corner of the restaurant atop a black and white, checkered floor that glistens beneath the lighting. There's red booths with matching red chairs, decorated with an array of condiments and a large stack of white napkins; the walls don road signs and street signs. </p><p>Kiyotaka hears Mondo say 'thank you' to the woman at the cash register and turns around, looking back at the two. Mondo smiles and nods his head as he hands over some money, in exchange for a comment about how they should take a seat and how their pizza won't be long. He thanks the cashier again and then turns to Kiyotaka, smiling, walking to the only empty two-seater in the restaurant. </p><p>"It'll be like five minutes, I bet," Mondo says, trying to break the silence between the two of them. Kiyotaka fumbles with a napkin, hesitantly looking up every two seconds at him. He feels Mondo's hand gently lie atop his nervous ones and he dares to make eye contact with him. "You okay, bro?" </p><p>"Yeah, I'm sorry, just...not good at being outside of my comfort zone, I suppose," he says, trying to force a laugh so as to not sound awkward. </p><p>"Hey, neither am I to be honest. When my brother moved away n' I moved here, I basically just stayed inside for like...weeks, 'til I finally gained the confidence to go out." He laughs and says, "yer good company, though, bro, so just, y'know, relax a little, I guess?" </p><p>"I wish it was that easy," Taka says with a small laugh, pulling his chair in a little more, wincing at the unintentional scraping sound of the chair along the floor. </p><p>"Eh, ya just gotta spend all yer time around me now, I guess." The two of them laugh as the waitress places their rather large pizza down in front of them and they give their thanks to her. </p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. I Feel Wrong</h2></a>
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    <p>The pizza wasn't as bad as Kiyotaka feared it would be: three crusts are sat on his plate, uneaten, surrounded by tomatoes that had fallen off and odd strands of cheese and crumbs. Mondo eats the final slice of the pizza, not pausing between bites for sips of his drink or even air; every so often he looks up at Taka and chuckles, and Taka will chuckle back, hiding his mouth behind his drink. THere's that final crunch of Mondo finishing the crust of his own pizza and Kiyotaka watches as he wipes at the tomato sauce around his mouth with a napkin. He hides a burp behind his hand as Taka takes a small drink from his glass of water through the inconveniently soggy paper straw. </p><p>Mondo sighs and leans back in his chair; Taka puts his drink back down and looks up at him. Mondo is smiling and abruptly leans forward. Taka doesn't even find himself flinch. He doesn't even find himself flinch when Mondo stretches out his hand, closed into a weak fist, his thumb sticking out. He doesn't even find himself flinch when he feels Mondo's thumb gently caress the side of his face for a second. </p><p>"Sorry, ya had sauce on yer cheek," he explains, smiling, his eyes all too kind. And Kiyotaka almost thinks he sees hope in them. </p><p>"It's okay," is all he can say in response. They had been quite quiet as they each ate their pizza, Mondo eating far more than Taka, but not seeming to mind. He pulls his chair in, more afraid of the distance between him and Mondo rather than the new closeness. Most of the patrons left a little while ago, leaving a few couples and a single family of four in their seats, leaving Taka and Mondo to their comfortable silence. </p><p>Kiyotaka doesn't mind sitting silently with Mondo; usually, he would find his leg bouncing up and down with the awkwardness, or find his teeth bitting through his lower lip as his brain seeks something to say, but now, for some reason, it's different. The sun is setting and it looks like it might start raining again, and the street lights turning on begin to glow and make pretty colours in the puddles from the last hour of the downpour. One of Taka's hands rests atop his knee, the other wiping cold condensation from his glass subconsciously; he tries to look elsewhere from the man ahead, but he can feel his eyes fixed on him and ultimately dares to look up. </p><p>"You okay?" Mondo asks. His voice carries a ruthless sense of earnestness, meaning everything twofold. Kiyotaka nods and Mondo's eyes open a little more, further prompting him to say more. Taka could tell this was his attempt at breaking through that silence that he loved so much, that he rarely ever got to love so much, and opened his mouth to say whatever it was he felt he needed to. </p><p>But what he felt he needed to only came out in the form of: "I'm okay, I promise." Mondo's eyes were decorated with disbelief, even Kiyotaka could see it and he was trying ever so desperately to avoid eye contact. "I promise." The disbelief lingered and Kiyotaka simply sighed, smiled and started again, "it's just...I suppose it's just strange that we've only known each other for a few days."</p><p>"I feel like there's an 'and' there somewhere," Mondo jokes with a smile, and Taka returns the gesture, exhaling a little in preparation of continuing. </p><p>"And" - he adds emphasis to this with a raising of his eyebrows and a widening of his grin, leaning forward a little - "I don't know...I don't know how to phrase it. You're just different than anybody else in my life." </p><p>"I'm glad." The disbelief from his eyes fades; Taka watches it leave. His voice is still permeated by earnestness, an abundance of it that Taka doesn't particularly know what to do with as it falls into his hands. And he doesn't get a chance to think about it either as Mondo starts speaking again, "do you want to walk around a little before you gotta go home?"</p><p>Kiyotaka finds himself grinning as he nods, watching as Mondo downs the final few sips of his chocolate milkshake that he <em>insisted</em> on getting, that Taka paid for out of a guilty feeling that Mondo had paid for the pizza. He stands and shrugs his coat on, waiting for Kiyotaka to do the same, and he doesn't, throwing on the blazer of his suit jacket quite foolishly, failing to find the left armhole several times, which received a gentle chuckle from Mondo before he helped him out. </p><p>They both flash smiles the way of the kitchen and cash registers as they walk past; Mondo scans the cylindrical umbrella stand at the entrance for his own, picking out a few incorrectly to analyse them before putting them back in and pulling out another. After a few more moments, Mondo sighs with some sort of odd mix of relief and good humour as he pulls out his own umbrella, shaking some of the rain off into the stand almost imperceptibly. Kiyotaka steps out and holds the door open for him, keeps holding it open for the couple behind them, donning fashionable winter jackets that looked expensive, as Mondo opens up the umbrella and holds it above his head. </p><p>They walk around in silence for a little while, going nowhere in particular, Mondo humming some irregular tune as Taka peers into the shop windows dreamily. He feels Mondo's gaze on him at most, if not all, times, but he doesn't mind. He stops himself from reminding Mondo to adjust the umbrella over both of their heads, not minding the few drops of rain that land on him until Mondo notices and adjusts it wordlessly. Kiyotaka doesn't catch his thoughts slipping once and his lips are almost wed to his own smile at this point. </p><p>"So, ya wanna go anywhere else?" Mondo asks, playfully tugging Kiyotaka, who has been walking faster than Mondo for the majority of the time now, back under the umbrella by the sleeve of his jacket. </p><p>"I can't think of anywhere." Kiyotaka checks his watch. He hates how he's timed. He wishes he could just walk around with Mondo for hours, but he knows he can't. He guesses his wife will be home in about an hour's time and, not knowing quite where he is, he says, "I think I should go home now, actually." </p><p>They both stop walking in unison and Taka turns to face Mondo, just in time to catch him frowning. </p><p>"Fuck, dude! Ugh." Maybe it's the fact that it's Mondo speaking or that his frustration is almost comedically exaggerated (not too much, which helps retain its believability), but Taka can only find himself smiling. "Alright then. Did ya at least enjoy yer pizza?" He playfully and gently punches Taka's shoulder, grinning. </p><p>"I did. I don't particularly like greasy foods either but-"</p><p>"But it was fuckin' great, right? Ya oughta let me take ya out to eat more; I know all of the best places." Taka grins and chuckles, and he sees in Mondo's eyes that he takes this as agreement. "You have a raindrop right <em>there</em>," Mondo says mindlessly as he wipes at Taka's under-eye with the middle knuckle of his index finger. "That makes it look like yer crying." Taka's head moves in gentle, subtle harmony with Mondo's knuckle. He expects him to let his arm fall back down to his side, but it doesn't: his hand, instead, takes residence at the side of Taka's face, his eyes soft and homely. </p><p>Kiyotaka finds his throat too dry to speak, his knees feeling shaky all of a sudden and he doesn't know if it's simply the cold or the fact that Mondo's thumb is now gently strumming his hair. And he doesn't know if the palpitating in his chest comes from the shrillness of the rain or the fact that Mondo's leaning in. And he doesn't know if the somewhat disparaging cloudiness in his brain comes from the sound of raindrops hitting the umbrella above them or the feeling of Mondo's lips against his own. </p><p>And he doesn't know if he's kissing back as a reflex or if he means it. </p><p>As Mondo cocks his head to the side a little more to deepen the kiss, his hand firmly planted at the back of his head now, Kiyotaka almost sees his life flash before his eyes. He sees his wife. He sees his mother. He sees his father. He sees the first boy he ever kissed. He sees the first man he ever fell in love with. And he feels tears from behind his shut eyes. And he raises his hands almost defensively and roughly pushes Mondo away. </p><p>The rain immediately soaks his hair. He feels it sliding down the back of his neck. He knows that now he must certainly look like he's crying, both because he is and because of the rain on his face. Mondo stares at him, his lips slightly parted as if to say something; Kiyotaka feels the same expression on his own face. Mondo looks almost apologetic as Kiyotaka reflexively and harshly wipes at his mouth with his forearm, dragging his face painfully. </p><p>"Hey-" Mondo starts, almost taking a step forward but catching Taka's glare too soon before he can.  For the first time since Kiyotaka has met him, Mondo looks almost afraid. And he wishes he knew what he was thinking right now. Because all Taka can think of is what do to with this sinking feeling inside of himself. </p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Smother</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ok i rlly hate putting chapter notes at the beginning of each chapter unless for a super important reason BUT<br/>i made a playlist based off of this fic on spotify so if u wanted to check it out its literally called:<br/>" we might be dead by tomorrow // ishimondo "<br/>&lt;3 thank y'all 4 reading</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kiyotaka can feel Mondo's eyes on him even as he stares at the ground, shaking from the coldness of the rain. </p><p>"Jesus, dude, yer gonna catch a cold," Mondo says, taking half a step forward and beginning to stretch out his arm that carries the umbrella. He had a forced a laugh as he spoke, but Kiyotaka could see something else behind his careless facade as he looks up. </p><p>"Get the fuck away from me," Kiyotaka says, taking a step back. He spits to the ground, wiping at his mouth again; he doesn't know the difference between the raindrops and the tears on his face. Mondo's expression is flat, his face paler than usual, his posture faltering. </p><p>"I didn't mean to-"</p><p>"Get the fuck away from me." He tries to break eye contact, but his eyes won't move from staring back at Mondo. </p><p>Mondo's face now has a familiar look to it: something that takes the shape of his father's eyes and his wife's sneer, his mother's gentleness hiding somewhere behind it all. "Fuck you," he says curtly. His tone makes Kiyotaka flinch, but he knows he deserves it. "No fuckin' wonder you hate yerself...You fuckin' suck." Somewhere in his words, his voice cracked.</p><p>Kiyotaka cries harder as he watches Mondo walk away. He thinks that he saw him start tearing up, just before he turned away, but maybe it was the rain. Maybe it was the rain. Kiyotaka wipes at his lips again with the heel of his hand and then again with the back of his hand; his lips are chapped and he feels himself tearing the skin off as he does so, the harshness a mere comfort.</p><p>He wants to sink down to the floor and let himself sob, but he doesn't even know what he would sob at. The kiss itself? The way he reacted? The way Mondo spoke? What Mondo had said? Either way, he was already crying, trying to hide it all. He wants that kiss to stay on his lips forever and he doesn't know why so he wipes at his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. Mondo's too far gone into the crowd of people to be discernable now. </p><p>All he can do now is go home. But he doesn't know where the hell he is. He doesn't know how the hell to get home, so he just walks the same route as Mondo, hopes it will lead him somewhere recognisable, hopes he gets home before his wife. </p><p>The route is packed with people, standing awkwardly outside and around stores that Kiyotaka doesn't recognise the names of; the rain falls heavily to the cobble street and he's almost certain he's going to fall ill if he doesn't find shelter soon, but he really doesn't care.</p><p>He's already shaking; he already feels like he might die of something; he already feels weak. An illness would be nothing. His body feels empty, feels hollow, like somebody gouged out his organs and all he's left with is a spine and his ribs; his theoretical heart palpitates in the space between his collarbones and his theoretical stomach churns. More importantly, he feels <em>bad</em>, an implacable 'bad' feeling that he can't quite explain in any other way. 'Guilt' doesn't fully encompass it and 'sad' turns him into the victim. </p><p>He feels lost and maybe it's because he really is, emotionally and physically. The dimly lit cafe to the right of him is almost entirely unrecognisable and the convenience store on the left of him looks like something he might have dreamed up but has never really seen. The row of houses in front of him are all identical, all pursuing a horrible idea of similarity, all making that sickly feeling inside of Taka rise.</p><p>He takes his phone from his pocket, sniffing as he does so; immediately, the screen becomes splattered with a hundred raindrops. When he tries to wipe it away on one of his trouser legs, it only smudges them into one big wet smear across his screen. Nonetheless, as he shuffles off to the side out of everybody's way, he opens up his Maps app, hoping that he can figure out where the hell he is. He inputs his own address, letting his phone figure out his current location. Luckily, his phone loads and tells him that it's only a fifteen-minute walk home if he follows a certain route. </p><p>For the first time in a while, Kiyotaka feels an unusual sense of relief. He follows the route, staring at his phone the whole time, not because he needs to but because he wants the security of having <em>something</em> to focus on, of having <em>something</em> to deter him from himself and from his own thoughts. He hopes that his wife won't be home yet so that he can have a shower and wail a little while without fear that he'll get caught for it. </p><p>Kiyotaka wasn't one to forget something, but he'd left his car in the company parking lot twice in the past week, and he only realises it when he's nearing his house and his car isn't in the driveway. All he can do is sigh, sigh in either disappointment or some other feeling that sounds like 'disappointment' only less romantic. Needless to say, he hesitates before he opened the front door; he can't see any lights on inside, or hear any movements, but there is always that five second pause...that five second moment when he realises that his wife <em>could</em> be home and that hesitation would only prolong his having to see her. Nevertheless, he slowly inserts his key into the lock, turns, wincing at the sound and pushes the door open. He steps inside and...</p><p>Silence. No forced welcome, no television turned on, no anything. Just silence. </p><p>And he let's himself sob because now, he is truly alone. </p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Ghosting</h2></a>
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    <p>The first thing Taka does when he gets home is shower. He feels as though he's been rolling around in a pile of dirt, the mud clinging to every inch of skin that it can. He scrubs and scrubs until he feels his skin burning, noticing the bright red colour it now bears. All he does is sigh. His wife isn't home yet so there's some odd sort of relief pervading his senselessness. His stomach is churning, sure, but he was certain he would throw up if she was here. </p><p>It's no use for Kiyotaka to try to make sense of his thoughts: there are too many to count and all overlap into some maddening, radio chatter that only makes him want to dig his nails further into his skin. He cries nonetheless. He knows he shouldn't. "Boys don't cry," he tries to tell himself but, fuck, if crying wasn't so easy. He could 'man up', step up, right now, and knows that he wants to, but he also knows that fragility is a much more peaceful alternative. And besides what else would he do? Something else he would regret probably. </p><p>Another problem is that he doesn't quite know what he regrets. Maybe it's the letting himself get too close to another person, or maybe it's that sense of selfishness he feels permeating his insides in that he feels like he led Mondo on. Or maybe it's the echoing shriek of his father's achy voice as he yells at him. Taka tries to make sense of why his father would yell at him. He almost chuckles as he thinks of the word 'love'. <em>He would yell at me for love</em>, he thinks, but a side of himself, more sensible and more callous, responds, <em>there's more to it than that</em>. And Taka agrees. Boys don't kiss boys. Full stop. They never will and they never have. But something about Mondo's soft lips pressing into his own, chapped and peeling and dry, made his heart weep. </p><p>The hot water from the shower pours into his eyes and makes them burn, but he doesn't particularly care. There's a warm, soft, tender side to the pain; it puts him in his place. It reminds him there's a human behind his scars. His hands fall to his waist, pressing themselves against his flesh just as his wife had about a week ago now, his fingertips almost perfectly matching up with those tiny bruises. They're on the verge of becoming brown now, starting to heal, starting to mend. Kiyotaka was almost jealous. His fingers force themselves down and a dull ache ripples through his body. He stifles a cry. He digs his fingers deeper into his skin as the sound of the front door opening and shutting suddenly sends shakes to Kiyotaka's knees. </p><p>He rips his hands from his waist, swearing that he might've taken skin with them had he not loosened his grip a little, and trying quickly to rid his hair of soap. His hands frantically scrub at his hair and scalp. "Hi, Taka!" he hears his wife shout, all too cheery. </p><p>"I'm in the shower!" he shouts back, half-wishing he hadn't hurt himself like that because now all he definitely did want to do was cry. </p><p>He hasn't noticed it yet, but his phone has been buzzing with a new notification every second. Each notification is another message from Chihiro and, when he finally does notice, his body not feeling clean but being as clean as one could possibly expect, there's a good fifty messages waiting to be read. He sloppily wraps a towel around his waist, drying his hands poorly on it, before picking up his phone. </p><p>'mondo told me what happened.' 'He said he's sorry, taka' 'Call me??' 'Please call me Taka.' 'R U OK???' 'Tell me ur side of the story please' 'Did I do something wrong?' 'Please Taka' 'Taka answer please' 'He said he's sorry' 'If U won't call him pls call me?' 'Please?'</p><p>He wipes at his eyes before he even feels a tear form. Mondo texted him once, a message simply saying 'im sorry'. Taka doesn't know how to react: if he tells Chihiro the truth, he'll hate him for sure, but if he lies, he'll only feel guiltier. He starts to draft a message back to Chihiro, detailing the situation, but deletes the entire paragraph when he realises that Chihiro probably already knows what has happened. He closes his eyes and exhales, trying to clear his brain and formulate some clear, decisive response, but nothing comes to his mind. </p><p>''I don't want to worry you, Chihiro. I reacted poorly-" he dictates before he realises how horrible it sounds and deletes the message. Where do you go once there are no words left for you? </p><p>He couldn't even use his emotions here and God knows he has too many. Truthfully, Kiyotaka doesn't know how to talk about whatever it is he feels about Mondo, because he doesn't think there's a word for it. He wouldn't exactly bring himself to call it 'love' of any sort, but it's an odd mix of wanting Mondo to treat him as poorly as everybody he has ever cared for before, wanting Mondo to hold him gently and treat him kindly and tell him everything is okay, and wanting to be around him in silence. Kiyotaka supposes the closest word for it is 'yearning', but even that sounds much too similar to something poets write about than anything Taka could ever feel.</p><p>But one thing is certain: there is a woman that Taka is married to on the other side of the door, growing more and more impatient. </p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Rome is Burning</h2></a>
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    <p>Kiyotaka had tried to muster up the courage to call Mondo, but the closest he got was simply letting his finger hover above the button. He knows that his wife must see the dejected and ill-present look on his face as they eat dinner, could even picture it himself, could feel his wife's harsh eyes staring him down with every bite he takes. He can't bring himself to look at her. He can't bring himself to answer with more than one word whenever she asks him a question. (The usual 'Are you okay? 'Yes.' 'Are you sure?' 'Yes.' routine). Occasionally, his wife uses a single word, what doesn't really matter (Taka supposes it's more so the way she phrases things or inflects that plays the more essential role), that almost drives him to tears.</p><p>"Kiyotaka, sweetie, there's something wrong. I can see it in your eyes." </p><p>"Nothing's wrong. I'm okay." But the voice crack that split his words in two renders a different conclusion. </p><p>She puts her knife and fork down, leaning against the edge of the plate; she picks up her half-empty wine glass and swirls the red liquid around before sighing and saying, "I do care for you, you know." </p><p>Kiyotaka almost snorts, but he doesn't quite know why. <em>Of course, she cares,</em> he thinks, <em>that's just how people act when they love somebody imperfect</em>. "I know," he says. </p><p>"So will you tell me what's wrong?" Silence. "For Christ's sake, you won't even look at me." </p><p>He forces himself to meet her eyes. He expects harshness and anger and burning violence hidden away in her eye sockets, but there's an unusual kind of gentleness in them that he doesn't quite recognise at first. "Is it my fault?" she asks after a while. </p><p>Kiyotaka shakes his head. All Taka finds fault in is himself. </p><p>"I can't help you unless I know what's wrong, Taka." He almost winces at the sound of his own name. The gentle corruption of her voice was soothing at first, but now all Kiyotaka can find in it is the horror of anticipation of when it will change. Of when it will snap back to its old self. Of when it will become laden with that rough concoction of disgust and hate, mingled with the idea of pity. </p><p>"Nothing's wrong, really, I promise. I'm okay." His grip tightens on his knife, carried gracefully in his left hand as he fights the urge to cry. </p><p>"Kiyotaka-" The sound of her voice sets off something inside of him as he looks up and says, in a tone too harsh to even sound like his own, "Jesus Christ, I said I was fine!" He throws his knife and fork onto the plate and they collide with the porcelain in achy clatter. </p><p>The anger on his face fades to a worry as his wife's face undergoes the opposite. He watches as she rises from the table like a horrible, distorted version of Athena and yells, "how fucking <em>dare</em> you speak to me like that, Kiyotaka Ishimaru?" And her voice is too terrible, too like the own that had been echoing around his skull for the last little while, that Taka can no longer suppress the tears. </p><p>He looks to his hands, now clenched into fists on his lap, hearing tear drops fall onto his trousered legs with gentle pats. He feels his wife's hand grasping at his air, dragging out strands as she pulls him from his chair to the floor. </p><p>"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" But his words are cut off by a feeling of hot, wet spit trickling down his face, hearing his wife chuckle at herself for thinking of that one. For some reason, in Taka's brain, spitting on him had been the worst thing she had ever done and he curls up into a foetal position and cries. He cries until he hears a frustrated groan from his once-cackling-now-irritated wife and feels her grabbing at his hair again. The strain on his scalp is heavy and burns and hurts as she drags him through the house to the front door. </p><p>"Please, I'm sorry," he tries to say, scrambling to his knees as if about to pray, about to beg her for forgiveness. If only she hadn't squatted down and hissed, "sorry is not fucking good enough." She opens the door and gives Taka a gentle nudge with her foot, sending him out to the porch and down the few stairs into the empty, rainy street. </p>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. I Want You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>im so sorry for these late, scattered updates i literally have no motivation 2 do anything.....im rlly trying here guys pls forgive me </p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He drags himself up to a sitting position on the front steps. Taka had never thought about smoking before, but he supposes, in a cinematic moment rather than an utterly pathetic one, he would light a cigarette right about now and rest his head in his hand as he takes a drag. In his left pocket is the leather wallet that he's had for a good few years; it's beaten up around the edges and it might fall apart soon, but he refuses to throw it away.</p><p>It's raining. There are puddles gathering in the streets. People, under their umbrellas, are rushing home, those alone looking panicked and those holding hands with their lovers giggling to one another. He doesn't know what his wife is doing right now; he guesses that she's clearing away their dinner plates, or maybe even cackling to herself at the way she treats Taka. </p><p>The tears come naturally at this point. With every thought. With every image that comes to his head. With every instance of indistinct chatter from strangers, strangers that look all too carefree and hopeful. How do they do it? he wonders. </p><p>In his right pocket is his phone, cracked screen and static, no notifications anymore. Chihiro gave up asking about what happened a while ago. Somewhere, burning in his stomach, is the idea that maybe, <em>maybe</em>, he could call him right now and tell him everything. Tell him about his father, his wife, his college years; tell him about Mondo and that safe feeling that came with being around him and that he wishes he could just function as a normal person for once and that he wishes Mondo would just walk over right now, sit beside him, reassure him of whatever. Taka wants to. He's dying to. But every inkling of doubt makes its way into his brain; he doesn't want to be a burden and saddle Chihiro with all that shit. </p><p>There was a saying Kiyotaka had heard in a song once: something about how darkness only exists to make the light truly count. But he was sick of all of this darkness. And where was the light? Where could he find it if not the one person who ever made him feel whole and worthy and safe, the person who he just pushed away? He sinks his face into his hands and sobs. </p><p>He doesn't like crying, doesn't like the feeling of it; he does it too much to enjoy it. Like listening to a good song for hours on repeat only to never be able to hear it again without feeling sick. Every passing comment he heard from others all seem to now distort themselves into whispers about the adult man, crying on the steps of his own house, letting himself get soaked by the rain. </p><p>And then he remembered how carefree he felt that night at the bar. With Chihiro. When he met Mondo. If he keeps the idea of Mondo out of his head, maybe he can just stand and walk over there, wherever it was, buy himself a few too many drinks, stumble home. "Get hit by a car," Taka whispers to himself aloud, only half-joking. So that's what he does. </p><p>He stands up, knees shaky, almost falling. One step down those stairs, another and another, and then he's standing on the sidewalk. The corner of his lip is bleeding and he's almost certain that so is his nose, but he doesn't care enough to wipe it away. Another step and another in the general direction of the vague idea he had of 'Leon's'. It seems like everybody is walking in the opposite direction to him as he lurches like some possessed thing over to this bar. </p><p>After a good twenty or so minutes, he catches sight of that glowing, red, neon sign dearly proclaiming the name of the establishment. Half a smile climbs to his face. He pushes the front door gently open and walks inside, the door almost shutting on him as he slips through. He thinks of the first time, the only other time, he stepped inside here: Chihiro clinging enthusiastically to him, the patrons at tables sitting silently and drinking, the man and his much younger female counterpart sitting at the bar. Mondo, glum, drinking a beer in the corner. Mondo, talking with the bartender but hardly responding to anything he said. The thought alone brings tears to his eyes and so, as Taka had done ever since he was twelve and only just learning to repress his emotions, he scratches the space between his eyebrows in hopes to make the tears leave. It never works; he doesn't know why he does it. </p><p>He sits in that same seat at the bar. There are only two other people in the establishment: both at tables, one behind him and the other to the right of him, silent and each drinking beer. Leon, leaning against the wall, looking tired from the slow business day, is texting on his phone, smiling every once in a while, until he notices the new customer at his bar, slumped over, arms crossed on the bar, chin leaning on his forearm, staring at one bottle of liquor subconsciously. </p><p>"Heya," Leon says, tucking his phone into his back pocket and looking down at Taka, who weakly looks back up. "What can I getcha?" </p><p>"Just" - Kiyotaka absently waves his hand around - "whiskey." </p><p>"That all? Last time you were here you wanted a...uhh...what's it called? Old Fashioned." There's a grin of pride on the bartender's face as he leans forward, hands clinging to the bar. "What happened since?" </p><p>Kiyotaka sighs and tries to think up some lie as he tries to make out what the band slogan on Leon's grey sweater, the sleeves rolled up, says. "I don't know," he says abstractedly. </p><p>"Alright, well then, one whiskey coming up." He disappears for a few moments, lets Taka slouch further down and try even harder to stop himself from crying as he keeps glancing over to the seat beside him and imagining Mondo was there. Then, there's a subtle sound of the glass making contact with the wooden bar as Leon says, "here ya go."</p><p>"Thanks." His voice is broken to the point that it seems hoarse. He can almost feel Leon staring at him as he goes to fish his wallet out of his pockets.</p><p>"Drinks are free for depressed customers," Leon says with a joking tone and a smile that fades when Taka looks up at him with sullen eyes. "Hey, man what's wrong? Y'know, bartenders are basically just therapists that give you alcohol." </p><p>Taka sighs. "I don't know. My life has just gone to shit. It was already shit, but then <em>I </em>fucked up and-" He shakes his head and knocks back his drink in a single swallow. </p><p>"I get it; ya need to be a little drunker to vent and that's alright. Lemme fetch you another drink." The way he spoke reminded Taka all too much of Mondo. <em>You're acting like he died</em>, he thinks to himself and then responds, in his head, with, <em>I know. </em></p><p>His glass is refilled several more times until Kiyotaka can even think of talking to the bartender. His words begin to slur and beads of sweat hang on to his forehead. Despite the drunkenness, he still has the sense to cut out the specifics as he rants to Leon about his recent predicament, his drink miraculously being refilled for a final time. Leon, with a patient and thoughtful expression, listens intently until he's sure that Taka has finished and then voices his own opinion. </p><p>"Look, you made a mistake. Shit happens. I'm sure you had your reasons for why you acted like that-"</p><p>"My dad is a <em>huge</em> asshole and so is my wife. You know, I used to have a boyfriend." Taka feels himself crying and tries to stop himself from envisioning a judgemental look on Leon's face right about now. "And I was so happy. And then my dad found out and I-" He can't find the right words anymore. Leon lays a gentle hand on his shoulder, taking away the glass of whiskey in front of him. </p><p>"Mondo will understand." </p><p>Taka's eyes widen, afraid that he slipped up and mentioned him, until Leon says, "that's who you're talking about, isn't it?" Taka doesn't respond. "Mondo's one of the better guys I've met, 'kay? He's a good dude. Looks a little intimidating sure, but he was also first to congratulate me when I announced my engagement. I hadn't even told him I was bi. He was just...nice about it. Y' just have to tell him what's wrong. And be honest with him. I can't guarantee that he'll instantly forgive you, but he'll definitely listen. Alright?" </p><p>And thirty minutes later, Taka would find himself, rain-sodden and drunk, asleep at Mondo's doorstep. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Futile Devices</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Taka's surroundings were unfamiliar at first as he opened his eyes. The room was dimly lit, the curtains shut, not at all where he remembered falling asleep. The scent of freshly brewed coffee is thick in the air, too thick that Kiyotaka finds himself with a nauseous well in his stomach. The thick vapour of alcohol is also coming from somewhere, but where, Taka can't quite say. There's the sound of movement coming from someplace ahead of him, but he can't find the strength in his arms to push himself up and out of bed to find out what the sound is, or even where he is. There's a sharp pain at his eyebrow, rippling through his skull as if somebody is pushing down on him with their knuckle, and Kiyotaka finds himself wincing. </p><p>He's sure he could figure out where he was if he was able to think clearly. </p><p>And then, after a few moments of contemplation on Taka's part, the door ahead of him is pushed open.  And, suddenly, at the sight of he who enters, Taka is both terribly and beautifully aware of where he is. The softness of the mattress beneath him. The bedside table. The gentleness of the pillow tucked below his head. The thin, blue blanket strewn over him. </p><p>Mondo's apartment. He drifts over, hair down, falling gracefully in his face. He looks tired like he hasn't slept in a while. The white, sleeveless shirt. The boxer shorts. That dreary yet calm look in his eyes.</p><p>"I figured you'd want something to drink." Taka watches as he sets a bottle of water beside him and then sits on the foot of the bed. </p><p>"Mondo-" Taka says abruptly, pushing himself up too quickly and feels a terrible, oppressive force inside of his skull. </p><p>"Lie down, yer going to make yourself throw up," Mondo whispers with a patient voice, placing his hand gently on Taka's knee and watches as he obeys. </p><p>"I'm sorry." Taka already knows he's crying. He couldn't find enough strength to stop the tears or the sobs. "I'm so sorry." His voice is hoarse and it hurts him to even speak. "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry." </p><p>"Hey- hey," Mondo says, his voice still a whisper, still gentle and peaceful and calm. "Ya should've knocked. You were out there in the rain for a good few hours before I found ya. Yer lucky I couldn't sleep, or else ya might've-" but Taka cuts him off with another series of apologies. </p><p>"You should've just left me, I'm sorry: I didn't mean to burden you."</p><p>"Fuck no, man," Mondo says with a faint chuckle running through his voice. With the way he was acting, you could assume that nothing had even happened between the two of them. "You were drunk as all hell. Shit, ya still reek of whiskey even now."</p><p>"What time is it?"</p><p>"Yer not going to work today, I don't care if ya need to. Ya need to just stay in bed-"</p><p>"What time is it?" he repeats, trying to sound as adamant as he can with the little strength he has left in him. </p><p>Mondo sighs. "It's seven in the morning." A pause. "Really, I think ya should drink something." </p><p>"I feel like shit about what happened, Mondo. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." And he starts crying again. "Please forgive me. I know that I reacted shittily, but...I just...I'm so sorry." </p><p>"<em>You</em> reacted shittily? God, I haven't stopped thinking about what <em>I </em>said." Another pause. "I'm not gonna lie to ya and act like what ya said didn't hurt. But yer a person. Yer gonna fuck up every once in a while. Yer a really good guy, y'know. A reaction like that doesn't just <em>happen</em> without, I dunno, somethin' else happenin' beforehand." </p><p>Taka doesn't reply. </p><p>"You wanna talk about it?" </p><p>Still, no reply. Because, Taka won't admit it, but that's all he's ever wanted to be asked. <em>You wanna talk about it?</em> </p><p>Mondo stands, still with reverberating patience in his eyes, and Taka follows him with his eyes as he picks up the bottle of water from beside Taka. He makes his way to the other side of the bed and sits gently beside him, unscrewing the cap of the bottle. "Can ya sit up?" Taka doesn't respond, instead, just tries his hardest to sit up, somewhat halfway. "Here," Mondo says with a voice crack. </p><p>Taka takes a sip, feeling Mondo's eyes on him the whole time. Immediately, he feels like he might throw up, but he tries to hide his nausea with an all-too-forced smile. Mondo raises his hand slowly, making sure that Kiyotaka can see before he goes to softly wipe something from Taka's face (a small drop of blood from below his nose, surely from his wife's tyranny last night). But, for the first time ever in Mondo's presence, he flinches. </p><p>"You wanna talk about it?" Mondo asks again, waiting for once again for Taka's reply.</p><p>"I don't really know what I can say." </p><p>"Whatever ya need to." Mondo watches Taka's eyes, seeing inside them a burning sense of worry, mingled with a loss of <em>something</em>. "Y' could just tell me why ya acted like that, y'know. I don't need yer whole life story if yer not comfortable sharin' it." </p><p>"When I was in college," Taka begins, trying to force down nausea so that <em>for once</em> he can tell somebody what's wrong. "I knew this guy. I met him at a bar. He was great, and after a while we" - Taka gulps, trying to force the words out - "...after a while, we got together. My first <em>real</em> relationship, where I could actually feel what he felt for me. It lasted about a year. I was <em>happy</em>, for once, I was happy. I remember sleeping around at his dorm once." Taka smiles, feeling tears in his eyes. The words begin to flow naturally. "It was nice. He was the first person I ever told about my...problems. And now you're the second, I guess. Anyway, after the year, he really wanted me to go home with him, to his family's house just for the summer, didn't want me to go back to my home. I liked knowing I was cared for, you know? Having him hug me tightly and ask me to just go home with him 'til we returned for the next year. But I didn't realise my...my parents had come by to surprise me."</p><p>Kiyotaka blinks away the tears, letting himself make weak, temporary eye contact with Mondo, who's listening intently. </p><p>"I'm sure you can guess what happened after that."  Taka forces a laugh, one that only forces more tears out. "They caught us in my dorm. My father got angry. But, I mean, I was angrier at my mother for just <em>standing there and watching</em>. I can't really blame her though when I was the one who said that he had manipulated me into a relationship and-" But he can't speak through the sobs anymore and Mondo pulls him, one arm around his shoulders and his other hand on the back of Taka's head, gently, into a hug. </p><p>"I didn't want to marry her," he finally says through muffled cries. </p>
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<a name="section0022"><h2>22. A Burning Hill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Taka feels Mondo's fingers gently tracing through his hair. He still cries; he doesn't know what else to do. He doesn't know what to do with his hands. </p><p>"I'm sorry, you must think-" Taka starts to say, forcing the words out through the sobs, until he's cut off by Mondo softly shushing him. </p><p>"It's alright." A pause. "It's gonna be alright." </p><p>After a short while of silence, bar the weeping and Mondo's gentle shushing, Kiyotaka remembers that there's a woman at home, waiting for him, probably already angered by him. He thinks that if he tells Mondo about her, maybe, just <em>maybe</em>, he won't let him go home. And he'll hold him tighter. And never let him return to that old way of living. Of existing solely in fear. He slowly retracts from Mondo's embrace, looking up at him.</p><p>His headache is more painfully apparent now, an abrupt, surging ache rippling through his skull. He tries his best to ignore it, but he's sure that Mondo can sense something is wrong when he asks, "ya okay?" </p><p>Taka feels a tear drip down his cheek, slowly, giving himself enough time to wipe it away. A thin strip of light severs the room in half, dividing it with a white line; the window must have been opened before as a mellow breeze slips into the room, the curtains fluttering like twin ghosts. Taka starts shivering. Mondo's hand is still on his hair. The wind lets out a funereal weep. Taka is still shivering and Mondo's hand is still on his hair. And there is the patient rustle of leaves outside the window. He looks away, still crying but less this time, to the wall; when the wall was painted, something must have gone wrong because, in the very corner, it's incomplete and messy. </p><p>"I'm okay," Taka manages, his voice cracking as if to scream 'it's a lie'. </p><p>"Ya can stay here for as long as ya need to," Mondo says and Taka glances back at him. Him, smiling sympathetically. Him, with the patient eyes. Him, with the angular eyebrows. Him, with the slightly reddened cheeks. </p><p>"I can't."</p><p>Mondo's looks contemplative and pauses before he smiles once again and says, "fuck 'em."</p><p>Taka lets out a subtle laugh. </p><p>"Does she hurt ya?" </p><p>Silence. </p><p>For the longest time, silence. The wind falls reticent. <em>Ignore the hangover</em>. </p><p>For the longest time, silence. Taka can almost hear Mondo's heart breaking in his chest. Taka's own heart is breaking in his chest. It shatters like glass and adheres itself to his lungs and ribs. It hurts him. What can he say? There is nothing for him to say. And then, subconsciously, Taka starts to unbutton his shirt. He looks down, away from Mondo, crying once again. The wind whispers one more thing before it falls silent once again. <em>Ignore the hangover</em>. </p><p>He hesitates at the last button before exhaling shakily and undoing it slowly. His hands tremble. Mondo's hand rests atop his own as if to tell him to stop if he doesn't want to; with a glance up at him, wordlessly, Taka replies, <em>I need to. </em>He takes his shirt off and rests it beside him. All those bruises, all exposed. The breeze starts up again like a television audience gasping exaggeratedly. </p><p>"I'm sorry." Mondo's voice is the one that cracks this time. </p><p>"It's okay." A pause. "I've had worse." </p><p>"Ya shouldn't have to." </p><p>Taka shrugs, "you get used to it after the first couple times."</p><p>"Ya shouldn't have to," Mondo repeats, his voice wavering. He traces those yellow, fingertip bruises on Taka's waist with his finger, keeping his touch light. Taka hasn't realised yet but Mondo's crying. And so is he. "She did this to ya?" </p><p>Taka nods, just once. Hesitantly, he holds up his wrist, which has a few, hardly noticeable blue smudges staining his skin. It still hurts to move it and Taka says so. Mondo takes it in both of his hands, tears streaming down his face. "Ya don't deserve this." </p><p>"I'm not all that great myself." </p><p>Either Mondo doesn't hear him or chooses to ignore him, but he starts to whisper, as if to himself, staring right at Kiyotaka's thin, skeletal wrist, "ya don't deserve this. Nobody deserves this. Ya don't deserve this." </p>
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<a name="section0023"><h2>23. No: The Moon.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>im so sorry</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The two of them, crying silently, sit on the bed for a few more moments, Mondo's hands gently resting against Taka as if he were made of glass and Taka shaking with each hushed sob. Taka feels his heart racing, but he wasn't quite sure why; slowly, he opens his eyes, blinking away the mist of tears that blurred his vision, inhaling deeply and exhaling even deeper. He watches Mondo, whose head is hanging down and shoulders bouncing with every cry. He watches as his tears fell into his lap. He traces Mondo's hand against his own skin; he traces the curve of Mondo's shoulders; he traces the hairpin curl of his lips as he began to bring his head up. Mondo pulls his hand from Taka, his fingertips delicately slipping against his skin, and wipes his eyes as dry as he could. </p><p>"I didn't mean to upset you," Taka begins and then finishes with, "I'm sorry." </p><p>Mondo chuckles a little, wiping underneath his eye with the pad of his thumb, smiling at Taka, "ya don't need to apologise for everything." Kiyotaka had never seen it before, but there is a slight purple hint to Mondo's eyes. His pretty eyes. "I'm sorry for what I said." </p><p>Taka had always had a bad memory and doesn't quite understand what he meant; surely, Mondo has noticed that as he repeats, verbatim, "'No fuckin' wonder you hate yerself...You fuckin' suck.' I dunno why I said it; I was upset. I really liked ya, really <em>like</em> ya. But, um, I won't do anythin' like that again-"</p><p>"You make me feel different than anyone else has ever made me feel," Taka says abruptly, balling his shirt up and holding it in his lap. Mondo's eyes slightly widen and his lips part. "I don't know why- I don't think I want to know why. Maybe it's because everybody else has hurt me or...or I've hurt them, but you're different. I can't believe I'm even saying that because I'm so <em>scared</em> of being hurt again - I haven't been this vulnerable in years."</p><p>Mondo's hand finds its way to Taka's face, his thumb gently brushing against his cheek. "I would never hurt ya." </p><p>"I know. And I <em>wish</em> I could believe you, but I just...can't." The tears fall again. From both of them. "Every time you slightly raise your hand or your voice all I can think is that you're going to hit me or scream at me or <em>something</em>. Do you know how tiring that is? Every move I make and every word I say, I have to make sure it's perfect so that I won't upset whoever I'm with."</p><p>A pause. </p><p>"I just want a break from it all." </p><p>Mondo has a look of shocked disbelief on his face, or perhaps it's sympathy, as he pulls his hand from Taka's face and watches him put his shirt back on. Mondo sniffs. Taka does too. Taka had no idea where any of those words had come from, but they had flowed all too naturally to be lies. Maybe, for once, it was honesty. No more 'I'm okay' or 'I'm fine, don't worry'. Just...honesty. </p><p>Mondo helps Kiyotaka with the top button of his shirt, having watched the button slip from his fingers several times. </p><p>"I love you," Mondo starts to say but Kiyotaka cuts him off with, "please don't say that." </p><p>"Why not?"</p><p>"Because you don't love me. You can't, nobody can. I'm too" - he sighs - "fucked up for all that stuff. What I have now - with my wife and my father - that's what I deserve, not...not you." </p><p>"Ya deserve kindness. And to be treated well." Mondo rises to his knees, holding Taka's face in both of his hands. Kiyotaka looks down, away, anywhere but Mondo's face. "I can't promise any of that, but...I can try. And I will try, I swear; I will try everything I can to make ya feel safe and happy and protected and loved. Ya can't go back to them. I won't let ya. Even if ya wanted to. Ya need someone who will try his best for ya, and I wanna be that someone." </p><p>Silence.</p><p>And then, "can you please not touch me right now?"</p><p>Mondo complies.</p><p>More silence. </p><p>"Can I be alone?" </p><p>Mondo nods, stands, leaves. Looks over his shoulder. Taka doesn't move, not until Mondo is gone anyway. The door softly clicks shut. </p><p>And then more crying. On both sides of the door. Kiyotaka cries into a pillow, hugging it tightly, letting it absorb and muffle his screaming sobs. Mondo cries into his hands, his knees to his chest and his back against the door. </p><p>-----</p><p>Kiyotaka must have fallen asleep at some point because, when he wakes, the room is even darker than before. Mondo is sat, cross-legged at the window, gazing at the dark night sky like an anxious child awaiting festivity, eating a pot of instant ramen with chopsticks. Taka pushes himself up onto his elbows silently and watches Mondo for a moment before realising he's underneath a blanket that he didn't remember putting atop himself. </p><p>It seemed they both had elected to ignore what had happened. </p><p>Mondo casts a glance, anxious, over his shoulder and notices that Taka has woken up. Mondo smiles warmly and Taka drags himself from the bed, his feet weighing him down, his bad posture causing horrible aches in his neck. He sits, also cross-legged, beside Mondo.  </p><p>"Good morning," even though the digital alarm clock read that it was eleven at night. "Are ya hungry?"</p><p>"No, thank you." </p><p>"A full moon tonight." Mondo gestures to the sky with his head, tipping it forward ever so slightly. </p><p>Taka can't take his eyes from Mondo and he feels his eyes water again. </p><p>He outlines Mondo with his eyes, following the perfect curve of his nose. The sleepiness of his tired eyes. The slumped slouch of his shoulders. The curvature of his spine. <em>I love you too</em>, he thinks, but all he says, "pretty."</p><p>"Me?" Mondo asks jokingly, turning his head to look at Taka. But he has already jerked his head to face the night sky. </p><p>"No: the moon."</p>
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<a name="section0024"><h2>24. How to Keep Wanting Without Ever Getting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hiatus over (hopefully) since england is back in lockdown - it has been for a while but shh - so hopefully i can focus more on this :^D<br/>this one is a lil short but!! oh well!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That night, they sleep in the same bed once again. Kiyotaka had insisted countlessly that he could sleep on the floor if Mondo preferred it or he would sleep on the couch, but Mondo, unfailingly, donned a small smile at Taka's protestations, shaking his head. As Taka lays down to sleep, looking at the already snoring older man, his hair loose and falling around, his tattoos all on show, he softly sighs. Taka's eyes gently close, staying open long enough to see Mondo as he rolls over, his face a mere inch or so away from Kiyotaka's. Something between his ribs begins to flutter as if there was something in his chest beating itself to death relentlessly. His stomach churns and he opens his eyes again. </p><p>Mondo is hardly discernable in the darkness of the room; if it weren't for the closeness of the two and the moonlight pooling in from the window, opened to let some of the late summer breeze float through, Taka doubts he would be able to see him at all. He never noticed before but Mondo's face is decorated with small freckles, scattered across his cheeks and down his face and, as Taka is sure, down his back. There's smudged eyeliner still under his eyes that he must've missed when taking his makeup off just before he laid down to rest; there's a certain pinkness to his nose as if he's cold or intoxicated or sheepishly embarrassed like a fourteen-year-old talking to his crush for the first time ever.  He's so close that if Taka dared it, he could probably touch him without having to move much. </p><p>And he does. </p><p>He raises his hand from his side and gently, ever-so-lightly so as to not disturb his sleep, traces his cheekbone with the middle knuckle of his index finger. His skin is soft, softer than he expected it to be. Taka watches as his face reddens some more in the darkness. As his lips, slightly parted before, now close. As his eyes, delicately shut before, now flicker open. </p><p>Kiyotaka pulls his hand quickly away, his face heated and that <em>thing</em> inside of his chest beating itself even harder. "I'm sorry," Taka whispers and Mondo's eyes, despite the look of confusion and tiredness they don, slowly blink as his mouth bears a small, sleepy smile. "I didn't mean to wake you." </p><p>"It's okay, Taka," Mondo replies through a yawn. "Gimme yer hand." Kiyotaka, out of embarrassment, obliges and does so. He takes it in both of his hands, much bigger than Taka's own frail and pale skeleton hands, and gently places it against his cheek. The infinitesimal space between Mondo's lips and Taka's thumb is the only thing stopping Kiyotaka from gently brushing over them. "See?" Mondo asks and Taka looks at him. "I couldn't give two shits if ya wanted to stroke my face in my sleep, dude." </p><p>"Don't...phrase it like that," Taka says, feeling a smile form on his face as Mondo chuckles. He can feel the vibrations of his laughter through his hand on Mondo's face. Mondo softly turns his head in the direction of Taka's hand and softly, almost as though it wasn't happening at all, plants a kiss at the heel of his hand, then turns back to face him. </p><p>"Ya doin' alright?" Taka doesn't respond, feels solidified as if witnessed by Medusa, his eyes looking almost glazed over. Mondo pauses. "Taka." And then, all of a sudden, he's back on earth. He looks at Mondo. Mondo lays his own hand atop Taka's. "Yer still worthy of being loved." </p><p>Despite how desperately Kiyotaka was fighting back the tears, despite how <em>weak</em> Kiyotaka felt when he cried in front of another, in a matter of moments, his face is flooded. </p><p>"C'mere," Mondo says, his voice little more than a whisper, as he pushed Kiyotaka's hand from his face and wraps an arm around him, pulling him in. One of Mondo's arms is around Kiyotaka's shoulders, the other underneath his head like a pillow; one of Kiyotaka's arms is over Mondo's waist, the other underneath his waist. </p><p>"You have big arms," Taka says and laughs through the tears. Mondo laughs too. </p><p>But all Kiyotaka can think is, <em>I love you too</em>.</p>
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<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Better</h2></a>
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    <p>When Kiyotaka awakes in the morning, Mondo is still hugging him; though his own arms fell down from around his waist at some point during the night, he woke up to the soft rising and falling of the other's chest. Taka wasn't quite sure if Mondo was now only sleeping lightly or if he was simply pretending to sleep until Taka tries to move and he's simply pulled closer. The gentle words "yer not goin' anywhere," hang peacefully and delicately in the air. Taka smiles. There's nothing forced about it. It's just...a smile. </p><p>"Are ya hungry?" </p><p>"Not yet," Taka replies and then pauses, letting his eyes flutter open, looking up at Mondo. "I'm not ready to leave bed yet." He doesn't know where the words came from. </p><p>"Alright." Mondo looks back at Taka and gently brushes his hair behind his ear. "Are ya feelin' better now?" </p><p>"I'm not sure," Taka says, the eye contact broken with a flicker. "I can't really remember last night. Or anything about yesterday really." </p><p>Mondo pauses, his gaze remaining fixed on Kiyotaka. He holds him closer to his chest, to no objection from Taka. "Well...you seem to be more comfortable with" - a break to find the right words - "<em>this</em>. Whatever <em>this</em> is." </p><p>"I'm trying," Taka whispers with a broken voice. "I'm...trying." And Mondo nods, though he knows Taka can't see him anymore, not looking down and with his eyes gently closed at least. </p><p>Kiyotaka's mind is flooded with thoughts, as it tends to be. He's trying his hardest to stop his hands from shaking. He's trying to figure out what it is that he feels in the moment: there is no word for it, at least not one that he's been taught. He feels like a child's brightly-coloured crayon scribble on a piece of paper or an annotated musical score or a poster, one corner peeled from the wall, flapping in the wind. But how is he meant to tell Mondo that? That he feels indescribable? That he feels like an eclectic group of objects rather than a person? He doesn't feel like he ever as before. </p><p>Mondo pulls him in just a little bit tighter before the hug dissolves and he sits up. </p><p>"Did I...do something wrong?" Kiyotaka asks, already afraid of that 'yes' answer. Already preparing to flinch at the swing on Mondo's hand. Already angling his face so that the hit hurts less. </p><p>"'Course not," Mondo says with a smile. And Taka's shoulders relax and drop. His face returns to normalcy. "Just been in bed long enough. Plus, we need to eat at some point today." He glances over Taka's shoulder to the alarm clock. "Fuckin' hell, it's midday already." </p><p>Mondo pushes himself from the bed; Taka begins to push himself out of bed too, until Mondo playfully throws a balled-up blanket at him and, with a grin wider than Taka thinks he has ever seen, says, "yer stayin' in bed. I'll make ya a sandwich or somethin'." Kiyotaka waits until Mondo closes the door behind him before he sits up, cross-legged.</p><p>He throws the blanket over his legs. It's soft and smells somewhat like the cologne he has gotten to used to. He holds his head in his hands for a moment and tries to ignore the thoughts of his wife and father and mother and torturous life that, for some reason, he feels he's no longer obliged to live. He remembers a time that seems a century ago, back in university, when he came into his old boyfriend's dormitory and sat beside him on his bed. He remembers his old boyfriend taking his hands in his own and saying, "your hands are cold." He remembers his old boyfriend gently kissing the backs of each of them until he thought they had "warmed up enough", which it seemed they never did. </p><p>And then he remembers his wife. At home, right now. He assumes that if he checks his phone, he'll have hundreds of missed calls and even more unread messages from her. "She doesn't know where I am," he whispers almost inaudibly to himself and something resembling hope takes root in his heart and starts to blossom. </p><p>After a few more silent, contemplative minutes, Mondo returns carrying two plates. "Your luncheon, my liege," he says jokingly. </p><p>And Taka accepts with a smile. </p>
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<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Losing Dogs</h2></a>
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    <p>After lunch, there is only more silence. Kiyotaka's eyes are drawn to the window; he wants to ask Mondo if he ever shuts the window, but his heart races and hands shake at the thought of how he might react. The ghosts of the curtains dance, swaying and blowing in the gentle, humming breeze. It started to rain a few minutes ago and now the raindrops softly caress the windowpane. They tap at the glass, beg to be let in and Taka, all of a sudden, finds the tears on his cheeks mirroring the weather. He blinks, but only more tears fall. And then...he feels a tender, yet slightly calloused, hand against his face. His eyes flick back over Mondo, who sits in front of him, his face blank.</p><p>"Why are you crying?" Mondo asks, keeping his voice low enough that it cracks. He almost looks sad himself. Mondo moves his thumb back and forth, gently caressing his cheek, and then Taka feels his face flush with heat. </p><p>"It's...raining," he replies. He doesn't know what else he's meant to say. </p><p>"Does that," Mondo pauses, "make ya sad?" </p><p>Kiyotaka falls silent. He has never been asked anything like that. 'Does that make you sad?' His heart beats quicker in his chest as though something is trying to break his ribs and get out. "I don't know," he finally says. </p><p>"It's okay not to know." </p><p>"Is it?"</p><p>"I don't know who made ya feel like yer feelings don't matter, but they do." Mondo takes his hand from Taka's face and holds his hand instead. "Even if yer crying over some rain...or if it's something more important. If yer upset or angry or anything, please tell me. Please. It's easier to deal with something if ya have someone there." </p><p>Kiyotaka blinks.</p><p>"I dunno if I'll be able to understand or whatever, but I just...I want ya to be able to have someone there-" Before Mondo can finish, Kiyotaka throws himself forward and wraps his arms around his waist. He cries, but he doesn't think it matters. He buries his face in Mondo's chest and tightens his grip around him.</p><p>"No, bro...c'mon, don't cry. I-" Mondo begins and then cuts himself off. He slowly coils his arms around Kiyotaka, softly planting his hands on his back, resting his chin atop Taka's black hair. </p><p>Another few moments pass and Kiyotaka pulls away, Mondo's hands slipping from him, climbing onto Mondo, his knees parted over his legs. Taka goes to embrace him again, but, before he can, Mondo throws his arms around him and pulls him in, one arm around his waist and his other hand holding Ishimaru's head, running his fingers through his hair. Kiyotaka hesitantly raises his arms over Mondo's shoulders and hugs him in return. </p><p>"Yer safe. Yer okay," Mondo says, his words muffled with his face buried in the crook of Ishimaru's neck. </p><p>"I don't know if I'm meant to feel this way." </p><p>"Nobody is meant to feel any way, Taka. That's not how it works. Ya feel however ya do and ya just...have to hope somebody is gonna be around to help ya out."</p><p>Taka doesn't pause before saying, "will you be around to help me out?"</p><p>He feels what he assumes is Mondo's tears on his bare neck. "Of course. 'n ya have to hold me to that, by the way." Mondo chuckles lightly and Kiyotaka smiles warmly. </p><p>"I will. Don't worry." </p><p>"I don't wanna-" Mondo starts and then exhales sharply. He takes his arms from around Ishimaru and holds his face with both of his hands, making sure they both look at each other despite their teary eyes.</p><p>"You don't want to...?" Taka has an inquisitive and yet still sentimental look in his eyes. </p><p>"I'm not going to be another person in yer life that hurts you, Taka." </p>
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<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Darling Boy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i hope u are all enjoying this fic and aren't losin interest or anything &lt;33 <br/>my upload schedule is messy ik (i don't wanna make excuses or anything but i will say im not in the best place mentally) but i rlly hope u can all forgive me n will keep enjoying everything i can put out &lt;33</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kiyotaka doesn't say a word for a few moments. He watches his reflection move imperceptibly in Mondo's eyes, the longest he has ever managed to hold eye contact. He doesn't quite know what to say. Every possible word that comes to his mind doesn't seem right. Everything that he would've said if Mondo was his wife doesn't fit. <em>Do I even have to speak? </em>Kiyotaka thinks. If there is nothing that he can possibly say, why should he say anything at all? His reflection in Mondo's eyes suddenly becomes clouded, but for once, it's not Taka that's crying. He wonders what Mondo must be thinking: something along the lines of 'I hate him now', 'I wish he would go back home already', or 'did I say the wrong thing?'. </p><p>Mondo's hands fall from Kiyotaka's face to his waist, but neither of them breaks eye contact. Kiyotaka opens his mouth as if to say something. But no words come out. He watches a tear fall down Mondo's cheek. He wants to tell him what he has wanted to tell him since the night that Mondo took him out to dinner. Those three words and, despite the terror, despite the fear, despite the way his heart is cracking his ribs in his chest right now, everything might feel right. Everything might feel just a little more okay. </p><p>But his words fail him again. </p><p>His hands make their way to Mondo's face. He holds it in his hands. Mondo hasn't taken his eyes from Kiyotaka's yet. Tears fall down his cheeks, one by one, but he doesn't take his hands from Taka's waist. </p><p>Ishimaru quickly holds his chest in his hand, where his heart should be if it hadn't climbed its way to his throat.  And then his hand, without Taka thinking twice about it, returns to Mondo's face. </p><p>"I..." He wants to say it. He wants to say it so badly. He wants to say it so much that his mind and heart are both screaming at him to say it. Every part of him is screaming. Every single inch of him wants to say it. <em>Let me say it,</em> he thinks. <em>Let me say it</em>. But before he can, he finds himself leaning in. </p><p>His eyes flick from the tears on Mondo's cheeks, to his eyes, to his lips. Kiyotaka feels his hands shake against Mondo's face. He has wanted this for so long. He has wanted this since he first met him. And this time he won't pull away. He won't yell. He won't hurt Mondo again. He slowly closes his eyes. </p><p>And he kisses him. </p><p>Mondo doesn't kiss back, not at first. But then his hands tighten ever so slightly around Taka's waist. And his eyes gently close.  And he kisses him back. </p><p>Kiyotaka doesn't want to stop; Mondo's lips are soft and warm and he feels so complete.</p><p>He knows that his father would kill him if he saw him right now. </p><p>But he also knows that his father can't see him right now. </p><p>A tear slides down Taka's face. Whether it be from repressing <em>everything</em> and now finally letting himself get it out, or the sheer amount of hope he feels, he's crying. One of Mondo's hands wipes away the tear as if being able to sense when Ishimaru cries. But the hand doesn't land back on his waist. And the other moves too. Both land atop Taka's own hands. </p><p>Kiyotaka deepens the kiss a final time before pulling away. Mondo's eyes remain closed for a few brief moments until he opens them. He's met with Kiyotaka's glowing, glassy eyes. And Mondo watches as Kiyotaka <em>smiles</em>. </p><p>"Your hands are cold," is all Mondo can say. </p>
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